


A Vampire's Policy

by jinxed_wood



Category: Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2010-04-13
Updated: 2012-05-13
Packaged: 2017-10-08 22:15:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 24
Words: 45,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/80046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jinxed_wood/pseuds/jinxed_wood
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stefan reignites his hunger for human blood, Elena tries to hold on as she deals with being turned, and Damon ensures he gets his own way... Spoilers through 1X22</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Elena sensed his presence in the darkness behind her, but she could not rationally explain how she could feel him. She did not hear footsteps or a hushed whisper, or any sound at all. She just knew he was there. It ran like a shiver down her spine, a heady awareness that bordered on fear.

It was a vampire... but not just any vampire.

It was Damon.

She wondered if this hyper awareness would ever fade, or would it always linger, a reminder of his blood flowing down her throat, digging into her psyche. He was a part of her now, and the sensation never diminished, no matter what Stefan had promised.

"You can come out now," she said flatly, halting as she reached the gate to her home.

"Took you long enough," he drawled, detaching himself from the gloom. "I've been following you since the bar."

"I know, I felt you," she said. "But if I'd called you out on it, then you'd have started talking and talking ..."

"Ouch," Damon said, clutching at his chest in mock agony. "That would have hurt my feelings...if I had any."

Elena waited impatiently, knowing there was a punchline coming, somewhere. The silence grew heavy, and she became uneasy as she realised Damon's eyes, usually so bright, even at night, were overcast and hidden. "Damon?" she asked, wincing as she heard the uncertainty in her voice.

"You haven't visited since we've sprung Stefan from Pearl's place," he said, in that false, bright voice of his; the one he usually used before he ripped someone's throat out.

"What's going on, Damon?" she asked, her hand automatically reaching for the reassurance of the pendant around her neck.

"You shouldn't have fed him, Elena," Damon said. He sounded tired

"I didn't have a choice. Why? What are you saying?" Elena asked.

He smirked humourlessly. "Relax, he isn't snacking on the co-eds yet," he said. "But I caught him raiding my fridge, last night, and helping himself to the O negative."

"That isn't funny, Damon."

"On that we're agreed," Damon said quietly. He blurred, and Elena let out a small hiss of surprise as his fingers cradled and lifted her chin. To a casual onlooker, it may have looked like a gentle touch, even romantic; a lover about to kiss his girlfriend goodnight - but his fingers were a vice that kept her face upturned, as his eyes studied her's fiercely.

"What do want," she said, trying to keep the fear out of her voice.

His eyes narrowed, not fooled for a second. "He's fed from you, Elena," he said. "And he hasn't fed from someone in a very long time."

"I did it to save his life," Elena said. "And why do _you_ care? You practically treat this town as an all you can eat buffet."

"True, but I'm more of a grazer; a sip here, a sip there, I get fed and nobody gets hurt...much."

"I know where there are a few corpses buried that say differently," Elena said bluntly.

"Extenuating circumstances," he murmured. "Speaking of which. You still feel me, don't you?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"You're a terrible liar, Elena," he said. "And this is becoming tedious. You can still sense me. I know it, you know it. The real question is, though, is whether it's enough?""

"What...what...are you saying?"

He leaned close, and Elena felt his breath, cool and ghostlike, against her ear. "He has the hunger, Elena, and he has you. Not a good combination...at least, not for you."

Elena's eyes narrowed. "If you think you can use this to drive a wedge between us, then you don't know me very well," she said, anger strengthening her voice.

"And if you think his love for you is going to prevent him ripping your throat out, then you are very deluded," he countered. "If anything, it just increases the danger; heightened passions, blah, blah, blah."

"So? What? You're here to warn me off?"

"I'd like to think I know you better that that," he said, with a small smile. "Which only leaves me with one option, really. Think of it as insurance."

Too late, she realised what he intended. "Damon, no-"

Pain pierced through her, gripping her and shocking her into silence. He pulled her flush against him, an unyielding wall, and she felt the pressure of his fingers at the base of her neck, holding her to him as he drained her. There was no finesse, no attempt to hide what he was doing, on the lit, suburban street. He really didn't care. Elena couldn't believe how stupid she had been. Damon could never help himself, he didn't think like a human being. Want, take, have; that was Damon's motto, and he was taking her.

She felt cold, but she didn't care, even the pain felt as if it didn't belong to her. She was going to die on her doorstep, and nobody would know why.

"_Don't be silly, Elena,_" His voice was mocking and soothing at the same time.

She felt his blood trickle down her throat, metallic and rich, and felt the beat of her heart in her chest. Still alive, she was still alive...

_Insurance,_ she thought, as she felt him lift her into his arms, his presence thrumming through her consciousness. _He doesn't know how to let go._ She opened her eyes. They were in her room, and she was lying on her bed. He sat on the edge of the bed, an inscrutable expression on his face.

"I don't want to be a vampire," she said. "I don't want to come back if I die

"And I don't want you to be dead, so we've reached an impasse" he said, before adding. "Stefan would never forgive himself if he ended you. It's better this way."

"Better for who?" she shot back.

"Elena, you're bedding a vampire. Sooner or later, blood play is going to come into it - and I'm thinking sooner, if the state I left him in is anything to go by. Get used to it, or get out. It's that simple."

"I really don't understand you sometimes," Elena murmured. She didn't have the energy to be truly angry; she felt her eyelids getting heavy as exhaustion overtook her.

"Get some sleep, you have to see Stefan tomorrow."

And he left, first from her sight and then from her senses, an overpowering presence that eased with distance. She wondered warily what repeated feedings from a vampire could do to her. Would it change her? Had Damon laid down roots in her, claimed a kind of ownership? Because it sometimes felt like it.

Stefan may hold her heart, Elena thought uneasily, but she had the creeping suspicion that Damon may have his claws into her soul.

**TBC**


	2. Chapter 2

Stefan had drained the glass dry.

Damon picked it up and examined it. He wasn't really sure how he felt about this new development. He really shouldn't care at all. After all, filial feeling wasn't exactly an affliction he was noted for...unless one counted his occasional homicidal urges.

"You left the blood behind on purpose," came Stefan's voice, from the stairs.

"Yeah, that's me, your friendly neighbourhood enabler," Damon said dryly.

"You're just loving this, aren't you?"

"Not particularly," he said. "Although we have enough problems without you frothing at the mouth at the whiff of every scratch and cut within a two mile radius. _That _was getting old." He dropped the tumbler back onto the coffee table. "How's Elena?"

"Leave Elena out of this." Stefan said, buttoning his shirt as he descended the steps.

"Broken it off, have you? Done the _right_ thing, and all that?" Damon drawled sarcastically.

"You wouldn't know what the right thing was if it smacked you in the face, Damon," Stefan said.

Damon eyed him. "You're looking chirpy. The new diet must be agreeing with you."

"I'm going back to school, today," Stefan said, ignoring his comment.

"Good thing, too, I got another one of those irritating letters from the school yesterday," Damon muttered, as he closed in on the liquor cabinet. "Say hi to Elena for me."

Stefan threw him a long look . "We need to talk later," he said, as he headed for the door. "About Elena's uncle, and how to deal with him."

"Sounds like fun. Bring her along, she's going to _love_ this," Damon said, with a smirk.

"Elena has nothing to do with it," Stefan threw over his shoulder.

"Could have fooled me. _I'd_ have said she was dead center." But Stefan was already gone, and Damon pulled a face. "Well, this is going to be a fun day," he said to himself, as he poured himself a scotch.

~~~*~***~*~~~

Elena paced in front of Stefan's locker, not able to shake that edgy feeling that had been plaguing her for the last few days. She wondered if he'd changed his mind, and decided not to come to school, after all. She checked her watch, another five minutes until class.

"Hi."

Elena whirled on her feet. "Stefan," she said. You look...good." And he did. He looked relaxed, and there was colour in his cheeks, which hadn't been there the night before, after the founder's party. In fact, she'd never seen Stefan looking so good. She gave him a tentative smile, as he grinned and took her hand.

"The worst seems to be over," he told her.

Elena laughed with relief. So much for Damon's dire predictions. "See, I told you everything would work out," she said

"Your wisdom knows no bounds," he teased, as he pulled her in for a kiss.

The kiss was firm and heated, and Elena felt desire build in the pit of her stomach. She would never admit it to anyone, but ever since she'd drunk Damon's blood, she was feeling a bit...well, she was glad Stefan was beginning to get himself under control. She missed him.

Elena pushed the thought of Damon out of her mind, and concentrated on the feel of Stefan's lips, and his hands on the small of her back. She ignored the catcalls coming from a passing group of juniors, and wondered if they'd get away with playing hookie for the afternoon...

The bell rang.

"See you after class?" Stefan asked, pulling away.

"We could have lunch at your place," Elena said suggestively.

A cloud passed over Stefan's expression. "Elena, before you come over to the house, I have to tell you a few things."

"Is it serious?" Elena asked, frowning.

"Serious, but not terminal...yet."

"Okay, I'll see you at lunch," Elena said. Stefan gave her hand a reassuring squeeze before letting go, but Elena felt the ball in the pit of her stomach tighten as he walked away.

~~~*~***~*~~~

There was exactly one heartbeat inside the Gilbert household and, as Elena's brother was at school, and her aunt at work, that only left her adoring Uncle John. Damon smirked as he glided around the house and tried the kitchen door. It was open.

John Gilbert was sitting at the kitchen's island table, drinking coffee, when he entered. He went very still when he spotted Damon. "Let me guess, it was my darling niece who invited you in."

"Meeeeep, wrong answer, try again," Damon said coolly.

"Why are you here? I've already said all I'm going to say, and we've already discussed how it wasn't in your interests to kill me."

"Oh, I haven't quite given up on that, yet," Damon said. "But, meanwhile, you can keep me entertained by telling me the full story. I'm sure it's very scintillating."

"And why should I do that?"

"Because you may have a ring, but the rest of your family _don't_," Damon said darkly.

"You're threatening my family?" he said, with a snort.

"Not threatening, _promising,_" Damon said, leaning over the counter. It occurred to him that he may not be able to kill the bastard, but he might be able to torture him. Pain was a great tongue loosener.

A creak, like the sound of a loose floorboard being stepped on, came from the hallway, and Damon's eyes narrowed. "Hold that thought," he said, before he blurred across the kitchen and pulled open the door.

In the hallway stood Elena's brother.

"Uh, hi," he said, sheepishly.

Damon eyed him. "Skipping school?" he asked.

"Free period," Jeremy said.

Damon had the very definite feeling that Jeremy Gilbert knew more than he should. Pity he'd promised Elena that he'd leave the boy alone...oh, who was he kidding? He glanced at the bracelet on his wrist. Maybe Pearl had a point, after all.

"I'll see you later," he said to John, over his shoulder. "We'll discuss this at more length."

"Don't hold your breath!" John Gilbert said.

"What was that about?" he heard Elena's brother ask as he left. To his ears, the question sounded unconvincing. His uncle, however, seemed to think little Jeremy was still operating in the dark.

"Just town council stuff," he heard Gilbert say.

Damon rolled his eyes as he shut the door behind him. Liar, liar, pants on fire.

~~~*~***~*~~~

Elena slumped against the bonnet of her car as Stefan finished his story. "So you're telling me that Damon tried to kill my Uncle John, last night?" she asked.

"Not tried –_ did_," Stefan said. "It just didn't take."

Elena's eyebrows rose. "He's a vampire?"

"No, he's wearing one of those rings – the same as Alaric's."

"This doesn't make sense," Elena said, frustrated. "If my uncle knows about you and Damon, why hasn't he told the council? My uncle may be an ass, but he's all about town pride."

Stefan shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine," he admitted. "Damon said something about us needing to talk tonight. I'm guessing he found out something at the party, while we were talking."

Elena nodded grimly. "Lets go, then," she said, as she felt the anger simmer up inside her.

"Elena, are you sure you want to do this? You know how Damon can be."

"I'm positive," Elena said. It was time she got some answers and, while she was at it, made sure Damon knew he couldn't toy with her life, or her family.

~~~*~***~*~~~

 

Damon smirked.

She was furious. Even if Damon hadn't been able to feel her through their blood tie, he'd be hard pressed to ignore the ire in her eyes. "I take it he's given you the abridged version, then," he drawled.

"There's is nothing you can add that will change the fact you are a complete slime ball," Elena bit out.

Damon shrugged. "True, but I have to say your darling uncle is giving me a run for my money."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Damon threw himself onto the couch, and eyed her tightly wound body. It had been five days since she'd fed on his blood, and a few weeks before that since he'd fed her the first time. She might not know what was happening, but she was definitely craving it. "I'll give you three guesses as to who told your birth mom that I'd be the ideal candidate to turn her," he said, aloud.

Elena looked at him silently as comprehension dawned. "That doesn't make sense," she eventually said.

Damon laughed. "You know what else doesn't make sense?" he said. "The part where he walked away from a three story drop without a scratch. It seems he's got a magic-cannot-die-ring, too. _Apparently_, the one he gave your birth mom was his own, but the one he wears now he inherited from your father... but if Daddy dearest had a ring, why did he die in the first place?" He took a swig of his scotch. "Just something to think about."

"I...I need to sit down," Elena said softly, as she perched on the edge of an armchair..

"I need another drink," Damon said cheerfully. "How about you, Stefan? In need of some liquid refreshment?" he smiled wolfishly, and Stefan coloured. Too bad Elena was too worried to register lover boy's reaction.

The doorbell rang, and Damon's head went up as he recognised the heartbeat. It was pounding in the kid's chest. "Your brother is at door, Elena," he drawled. "Tell me, how's that going? Handling it, are we?"

"I told you, I can deal with it," Elena said heatedly.

"The kid is snooping around at closed doors," Damon shot back. "Try harder or, failing that, get that bracelet off him, so I can handle the problem myself."

"You are not going near him," Elena snapped, jumping to her feet. "So help me, Damon, if you touch one hair on his head--"

"I'll just answer the door, shall I?" Stefan interrupted dryly.

Elena slumped back into her seat and nodded silently, and Damon smiled as he draped himself on the couch, studying her. She was trying not to show it, but she could feel his eyes on her. He deliberately let her eyes wander downward, and watched her stiffen involuntarily. This was going to be fun.

"Elena, it's your brother," Stefan announced, as he strolled into the room.

"Wow, what a surprise," Damon said, with a grin. "Drink?"

"No, he doesn't want a drink," Elena said, through gritted teeth.

"Actually, I wouldn't mind," Jeremy contradicted.

"What's your poison?" Damon asked lightly, as he got to his feet and crossed to the liquor cabinet.

"I'll have whatever you're having." the kid said as he joined him. There was a slight quiver to his voice, but Damon ignored it. In his experience, this happened a lot in his vicinity.

"Scotch it is, then," he said. "Anything else?"

"_Damon_," Elena said. There was almost a growl to her voice. It was... cute.

"And a scotch for Elena," he said aloud, pouring another glass.

Her lips pressed into a flat line, but she stood and accepted the glass from his hand. "Why are you here, Jer?" she asked.

"I wanted to talk to you about Uncle John," he said.

Damon smiled coldly, that was his first lie. He watched Elena frown. Obviously, she could sense something a little off about his answer, too.

"Couldn't it have waited until I got home?" she asked.

"Not really," he said, as he threw the drink down his throat and made a face.

"In need of some courage?" Damon asked, amused.

"Something like that," he said hoarsely.

"Jer, I think we should go home," Elena said, her hand resting on his arm as she glanced at Stefan. Stefan, ever the knight errant, stepped up.

"Not yet, I haven't done what I came here for," Jeremy said, his hands digging into his pockets as he glanced at Stefan.

"And what was that?" Stefan asked.

The next few moments were so unexpected, Damon didn't have time to react. He had been expecting an attack from the elder Gilbert, or one of Pearl's motley crew. He hadn't expected it from Elena's innocuous little brother. He should have known better. He was a Gilbert, after all.

Elena, however, must have heard something in his voice, because at the exact last moment, she stepped into the stake's path, in front of Stefan.

"NO!" Jeremy's and Stefan's voices blended into one, as the stake sank into Elena's chest. Her eyes widened as she clutched at it, her legs giving away beneath her.

Damon watched as blood dripped onto the Persian rug. "Well, Shit," he said. "I knew today wasn't going to be good."

**TBC**


	3. Chapter 3

Damon slouched back in the couch and examined the amber liquid in his glass, not bothering to hide his yawn as his eyes strayed to the two of them. He watched as they tried desperately to bring Elena back to life.

It was ridiculous how much energy they were expending on the act. The kid had his sweater pressed against her stomach, trying to staunch the gaping wound he'd left in her chest, as Stefan used CPR on her heart.

"I'm going to get an ambulance," the brat said, fumbling in his pocket.

In a blink, Damon was out of his chair and had Jeremy's cell snatched from his hand. He crushed it. "The next thing is your skull, if you're not careful," he said flatly.

Stefan looked up at him, Damon could see his control fray at the edges. "Now is not the time. Elena is dying--"

"Elena's _ dead_, Stefan," Damon corrected him. "All of this is just...window dressing."

The expression on Stefan's face bordered on hatred. "He missed Elena's heart. If we can start it, even for a few moments, I may be able to feed her some of my blood."

"Relax, brother, already taken care of," Damon said, lifting his glass in salute. "She'll be vamped up before you know it. All we have to do is prepare a little snack for her." He looked at the Jeremy meaningfully. He paled.

"You _turned _her?" he asked hoarsely.

"I presume you don't have a problem with that, or you'd have shoved that pointy piece of wood into my chest, instead," Damon said. "Probably for the best, actually. It's more interesting this way. I doubt your darling sister would have stepped into the path of a stake in order to save my skin." He felt a moment of resentfulness at the truth of his own statement, but then shrugged it off. In a few hours, Elena would awaken, and the game would be irrevocably changed. Life in Mystic Falls was looking up.

Why?" Stefan asked. "Why did you give her your blood? What game are you playing?"

Damon rolled his eyes. "Don't look at me like that, little brother. What did you expect me to do after your little demonstration last night? Did you actually think I was going to take you at your word when you told me you had everything under control? Like_ that _was going to happen."

"Since when do you care about keeping Elena alive? It wasn't that long ago you wanted her dead."

"Well, technically she's now _undead_, well, partially undead - soon to be totally dead if you don't get off your ass and do something useful like fetch her lunch. Nothing too fattening, and a non smoker would probably be preferred. All those pesky new senses will be working in overdrive," Damon said.

"I don't believe this is happening," said Jeremy.

"Believe it, kid," Damon said. "Because you're the one who is going to have to come up with a viable story explaining Elena's absence."

"What were you thinking?" Stefan said slowly, as he turned his gaze to Jeremy. "Why did you try to kill me?"

"Oh please," Damon snorted, "Even _I_ can figure that out, and I barely know the kid. You staked his girlfriend, remember? As revenge plans go, it's pretty solid; poetic, even, staking the staker. I heartily approve – get it? _Heartily_?"

Stefan gave him a long look, before turning to Jeremy. "Vicky had turned into a monster, Jeremy, she had to die." The kid's eyes narrowed. Obviously, he could also see the flaw in Stefan's logic. He was beginning to like the kid.

"Then so are you," Jeremy pointed out."And I don't see you putting a stake through your _own_ chest."

"So you thought you'd do it for me?" Stefan said lowly, and Damon heard the menace lurking there. Well, well, well, baby bro was angry.

Damon rolled his eyes. "Well, if you two aren't going to act like adults--" In a flash, he had Elena's limp form in his arms. She felt surprisingly light, and Damon felt something unfamiliar, something like regret. He squashed it ruthlessly. The alternative was a dead Elena, not really an option.

"What do you think you're doing?" Stefan asked, jumping to his feet.

"The sun is still up and she's going to wake soon," Damon said, as he looked at Jeremy. "She's going to need fresh clothes, toiletries...I'm sure you can figure out the rest."

The kid swallowed. "Yeah," he said quietly.

"How did you find out, anyway?" Damon asked casually.

His eyes flickered up. "Elena's journal."

"Figures; the Gilberts always had a thing for journals," Damon said, with a bark of laughter. "I'm sure it was entertaining reading. Bring that with you, too. No need to leave it lounging around for anyone to find it. There might be _consequences_."

Damon watched Jeremy beat a retreat to the door – as if being outdoors would save him from becoming dead, if he wished to kill him – before turning to Stefan. "We're going to need the witch's cookbook again. Find the witch and get it," he said.

Stephan folded his arms and glowered. "Why would I do that?"

"Because we're going to need it if we don't want Elena stuck in in the dark for the rest of her unnatural life," he said. "She'll need a ring, and Emily was the only one who knew how to create one. She left details in her book. I remember seeing it when I was looking for a way to get into the tomb."

"You do it. I'll take care of Elena. She's _my_ girlfriend, or have you forgotten that part."

"Oh, I haven't forgotten," Damon said. "But, you're the one with an invite into the witch's house, not me - and, quite frankly, my blood, my rules. I'm not going to let you mess this one up, like the last time with Vicki. No more, _oh, you have to make a choice, the right choice, the **moral** choice. Don't do it, don't become a monster, like **me**_." Damon looked at him coolly. "This isn't Sunday school, Stefan, and I'm not going to let you convince Elena into committing suicide just because you have issues."

"This isn't over, Damon," Stefan said. "I don't know what you think you're going to gain from all this, but you're not going to get it."

"Whatever," Damon said, as he headed for the stairs. He heard the front door slam as he reached the landing, and smirked. It was funny how things worked out. A few days ago, Stefan wouldn't have backed down so easily, but that was before he'd reacquired the taste for human blood. Damon recognised the signs of hunger. The dilated eyes, the darkening of the skin around the eyes...Elena's blood had got to him, and he didn't want to admit it to anyone, least of all himself. Hence the hasty retreat.

And while the overly protective boyfriend was away, Damon was going to have a bit of fun.

Ignoring Stefan's room, and then the several guest rooms, he headed for his own room. He draped Elena on the bed and looked down at her ruined t-shirt. Well, that would have to go, for starters. He tore it off and removed her bloodied bra, and high balled them both into the waste basket before examining her skin. The wound had already closed over, and she was cooling. It would only be a matter of moments before she awoke.

 

He rose from the bed, got a wet cloth from the bathroom, and then wiped away the drying blood on her skin. After a moment's thought, he covered her with a throw, before sitting on the bed beside her. He tried to formulate a plan to feed her, and went through his options. Bagged blood might work for a first feeding, but he wasn't about to risk Elena's life on _might_. The Gilbert kid might volunteer it, if Damon agreed to be present and not let Elena go too far. He definitely felt guilty enough, and he didn't seem to equate Vampirism with monsterhood, which was interesting in itself. He wondered if Jeremy knew about Anna. He'd lay odds that he did.

He'd love to feed John Gilbert to her, but his veins were probably swimming with vervain...Bonnie? A little magic with a side order of blood? They were friends, weren't they? Damon's mouth twisted. He wasn't sure if Emily's descendant would be happy at Elena's change of species.

She moaned under her breath, shifting slightly, and his hand automatically went to move a stray hair that had fallen onto her face. Her eyes fluttered open.

"My head..." she murmured.

"Welcome back," Damon said.

Her body tensed. "Oh God, Jeremy!" Her hand flew to her stomach, her eyes widening as she realised she was half naked under the light blanket. "I'm healed."

"You're back from the Dead," he corrected her.

The words obviously hadn't registered yet, because she scowled as she looked around the room. "Where's Jeremy?" she demanded. "So help me, if you've hurt him--"

"Relax, I sent him to your place to get you some fresh clothes," Damon said.

She glanced around the room. "Where's Stefan."

"Getting your little witchy friend," Damon drawled. "We need a new ring."

"I don't..." her words trailed off as realisation struck. "Oh God, no."

"Oh, I think you'll find that's a yes, actually," Damon said. "Welcome to the undead, Elena." His smile widened. It's gonna be a _blast_.


	4. Chapter 4

Elena was aware that Damon was speaking to her - something about rings and snacks - but she couldn't concentrate on the words. Her head was pounding, and she had the feeling that there was something she was supposed to be doing right now. Something urgent, and important, and taunting her from the edges of her memory. It was like a craving, a need that she couldn't shake...

Her eyes widened. Oh God, she was hungry.

"Ah, just hit you, has it?" Damon asked.

Elena glared at him as she scrambled off the bed, the throw clutched to her chest. She wanted to shout, to scream, but every time she tried to form the words in her head, the gnawing sensation in the pit of her stomach pushed them away.

"Shirts are over there," Damon said, jerking his chin at his wardrobe.

Elena turned and fumbled at the door. A hand suddenly pulled it open for her, and Damon was by her side. He pulled out a black shirt and held it up for her. Elena awkwardly shrugged herself into it, letting the throw fall to the floor as she pulled it closed. He circled her, and made short work of the buttons as he talked.

"It's going to get worse," he said, almost conversationally, "We need to find you someone to feed on quickly, or you'll have trouble stopping before they're dead – I presume killing would be an issue?"

Elena frowned as she tried to put her thoughts into words. "Stefan...Stefan said...it was impossible to stop when you're young."

Damon rolled his eyes. "Well, doh," he said. "You don't need to be able to stop yourself, I'll do it for you."

Elena was sure there was a fault in his logic, but she couldn't think what it was...the pounding hunger roared inside her, making her insides twist and her mouth run dry. "How long?" she said, eventually.

"Six to eight hours," he said quietly. "More than enough time."

"I didn't..." She wanted to say she didn't want this, but the truth was she didn't want to die. She felt Damon's hand on her arm, guiding her back to the bed.

"You brother will be here soon," he said.

Elena's head lifted, his words cutting through the hunger. "No," she said.

He gave her long look. "Right, scratch that plan," he said softly. "Which means we'll have to go a-hunting."

Elena shivered at the words, at once both horrified and excited at the thought. "Damon, I don't think I can do this."

"Oh, trust me, Elena, you _can_ do this," he said.

"You did this to me," she said, filled with the sudden urge to wipe that knowing smirk off his face. "You made me a monster."

"Now, fair is fair, I can't take all the credit," he said. "Little Jeremy has to take half. He was the one who delivered the killing blow, after all."

Elena shuddered. "I hate you!"

"Oh, you only wish it were that simple," he murmured, eyeing her. His head reared up, and Elena felt a jolt of surprise when she realised she'd also heard what had alerted him.

"There's someone downstairs," she said.

He nodded. "You brother," he said briefly. "Stay here. I'll deal with him."

He moved, a smeared blur across the room, and Elena found herself alone. She heard Damon's voice, and Jeremy's. A tension rose in her body, a surety that she didn't want to be alone, and she moved towards the door and stepped out into the landing. Jeremy was in the hallway, downstairs.

"I want to see her," he said. "I need to explain."

"It can wait 'til later," Damon said,as he rifled through the backpack in his hands. Elena recognised it as one of her aunt's. "Go. Now."

"But--"

"Jer!" Elena said, and Jeremy's head swerved up.

"Elena!" he said, the relief evident in his voice. "I'm so sorry."

"It's okay, Jer," she said, taking a step towards the stairs. "I..." And then it hit her, like a knife through her senses. She heard the roar of his blood, the beat of his heart. Pain spiked through her nerves, a yawing pit screamed in her stomach. Her senses went into overdrive, as if she was on a wild, crazed adrenaline rush. She could hear everything. The owl living under the eaves of the house, the deer in the woods behind, the breath from Damon's lips, the cars on the main road, and the blood....the blood.

Time contracted, and she was suddenly downstairs. Jeremy was in front of her, fear on his face.

"Elena, your eyes," he said.

"Jeremy...I need..." She pulled him into her arms, and he stood frozen, passive, almost willing--

"Okay, party's over," said Damon's voice, and Elena found herself flying backwards and hitting the wall. The impact winded her, and cleared her head.

"Oh no," she whispered.

"Don't let the door hit you on the way out," Damon said to Jeremy, and Elena watched as her brother scrambled outside.

"I couldn't stop myself," she said softly. "Stefan was right. I nearly hurt him, I nearly ripped his throat out."

Damon blurred into her field of vision. "Stefan has a stick up his ass," he pronounced. "And he could also do with a lesson or two about moderation." he gave her a long, considering look, before taking her hand. "Come with me," he said, guiding her to the couch.

She sat on it, not knowing what else to do, and Damon crouched in front of her.

"Tonight, you and I are going to go for a little stroll in the woods," he said. "There's a camping ground not too far from here, and as tents don't have a threshold barrier, it's basically an all you can eat buffet, as long as you're not stupid about it."

"I don't want to kill anyone," she said flatly.

"You're not going to," he said. "I'm going to stop you before you take too much, and I'm going to teach you how to bite without causing too much damage." He caught her eyes. "Trust me."

Elena shivered, and then closed her eyes, nodding. "How am I going to learn to bite properly?"

"You're going to practice on me," he said.

"_What_?" her eyes flashed open, and she caught him smirking at her.

"I taste pretty good, I'll have you know," he said. "I'm just not as filling as the real thing."

Elena licked her lips. "But won't it hurt you?"

"Vampire, remember? I kinda like the pain."

"You do realise how twisted that sounds, right?"

His grin grew wide. "Bite me."

Elena laughed, despite herself.

"That's better," he said. "Now, lean into my neck."

She leaned forwards, resting her hands on his shoulders, looking into his eyes nervously. "You sure about this?"

"Elena, this is my idea of fun," he teased. "Just relax, and follow the vein down my neck."

Her eyes trailed to his neck. His blood didn't call to her like Jeremy's, it didn't make her want to rip him open, but there definitely was an attraction. "Will I have any side affects from drinking your blood?"

"No more side effects than you have already, from my blood turning you," he said enigmatically.

"So, does that makes you my sire, and me your childe?" she asked, her mind flashing on an Anne Rice book she'd read in Junior High.

He rolled his eyes dramatically. "Do me a favour, never use those words again."

Elena laughed softly. "whatever you say...Dad."

He growled softly, and Elena silenced him by tentatively pressing her mouth against his neck, feeling the cool softness of his skin and the give in his flesh. The blood didn't pump as strongly as it had in Jeremy, but it still circulated. She felt her mouth water, her teeth extending, a pleasurable pain.

"Bite down gently," he said softly, "Your teeth are sharp, you don't have to force it."

Elena closed her eyes and broke his skin. Blood filled her mouth, and she drank greedily, feeling it rush down her throat. Oh...god... she never knew it would feel like this. She moaned against his neck as she felt his hands dig into her shoulders.

"Gently," he said, "Gently." he let her pull a few more mouthfuls, before pushing her back, breaking her contact with his skin. He gave her a lazy, hooded smile. "You've spilled a little," he said, and his mouth was on hers, lapping at her lips.

"_What is going on here?_"

Stefan's voice cut through her haze, and she pulled back awkwardly, her heart thudding in her chest. Damon's smile twisted as he got to his feet.

"Did you get the book?" he asked, sidestepping the question.

Stefan hesitated. "No," he said. "Bonnie wasn't there."

Damon pulled a face. "That complicates things. I was hoping to get Elena a ring before anyone noticed something was up." he shrugged it off. "Oh well, we'll deal with that when we get there. It's gone dark outside, time for us to go."

"You can't be serious!" Stefan protested. "You can't just take her out to kill someone."

"Not kill, feed," Damon corrected him. "And I think you'll find I'm as serious as a heart attack."

"I'm not going to let you do it."

"You don't have a choice, baby brother, she is going to feed, and that's that," Damon said. "Remember what I said earlier."

Stefan folded his arms. "No."

"Oh, Don't make me smack you down! A few stolen glasses of O neg doesn't make you strong enough to take me, Popeye."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that."

"Stop it," Elena said quietly. "Please, stop it."

Stefan gave her a pleading look. "You don't know what it'll be like, Elena. You won't be the same."

"But I won't be dead, either," Elena said, looking up to meet his eyes. "I don't want to die."

"And that would be case closed," Damon said cheerfully. "C'mon, up we get." He pulled her up from the couch, and gave her a pleased look. "It's not the end of the world, Elena," he said. "It doesn't even get second place."

"I'll go with you,"Stefan said hurriedly.

Damon gave him a sharp look. "In the state you're in? I don't think so. I'll have my hands full enough with little Miss Ravenous, here. The last thing I need along for the ride, is a teetotaller who's just somersaulted off the wagon. Go chase a squirrel, or something. We'll see you later," he said, dismissively.

Elena didn't resist as he caught her hand again, and led her from the house.


	5. Chapter 5

They ran through the woods, and Elena's whole body seemed to scream at her, her senses feeding her information she hardly knew existed. Every leaf and twig seemed to harbour life, every plant had a distinct and separate scent. The stars in the sky glittered unnaturally bright through the branches above. The world had changed.

She stopped in the middle of a clearing and stared up at the sky, and Damon tugged at her hand impatiently.

“You can bliss out in the moonlight later,” he said. “You need to feed.”

Her hunger roared to life again, and she felt her fangs descend. Amusement shone in Damon's eyes, as he dragged her amongst the trees.

“Tread lightly,” he said, under his breath. “There's a camp site ahead of us.”

She was about to ask him how he knew, but then she realised she already knew how. Fire smoke tainted the air, teasing her nose, and she fell into step beside him as they threaded through the woods. They found the tent easily, and Elena could hear the slow beats of two sleeping hearts.

“Stay here,” Damon said. “We don't want then near you when they thrash about. Instinct can be a bitch.”

Elena didn't have to ask what he meant as even his words sent an chilling thrill through her. She leaned against a tree and tried to steady herself.

Damon was already inside the tent, silent as a ghost, and she heard their hearts stutter into panic. His voice was low and hypnotic as he reined them under his spell, and the tent suddenly disintegrated as Damon tore it open and held up his catch.

“Boy or girl?” he asked, holding them both up by the neck.

“What?” Elena gasped, slightly stupefied by the sound of their thrumming hearts. She felt her fangs extend as the hunger threatened to blank out even the power of speech. She dug her fingers into the tree trunk, and felt a jolt of surprise as they broke through the bark as if it were a crust on a loaf of bread.

“Never mind,” Damon said dryly. “I can see we have moved beyond menu choices.” He glanced at the woman. “I'll keep you for later,” he said, as he tossed her to the ground. “Come here, Elena,” he said, stretching out his hand

With an effort, she pried her fingers open and let the tree go, stumbling to him. The man was young, in his early twenties, and his face had that slack expression; the one that told her he'd been compelled within every inch of his life

“Damon, I'm not...I can't...”

He looked at her, long and hard, and then pulled the camper's head back, showing Elena his vulnerable neck. His pulse throbbed, and Elena found herself riveted. The distance was closed, and his throat was in her mouth, her teeth in his flesh. The hunger flashed white, and she drank and drank...

Hands pried her loose, and she fought them. They tightened painfully, and Elena gasped as she suddenly found herself hanging mid-air, held up by the thin material of the shirt she was wearing. It wouldn't take a lot to break free, and Damon obviously knew what she was thinking, because he smirked at her.

“Snack, not meal, remember?” he said.

Elena felt herself flush. “You can put me down now,” she said.

His head tilted, studying her, and then he flashed her a smile. “My turn,” he said, and Elena watched as he bent over the woman and fed. She found herself fascinated by the sound of the woman's blood flowing into his mouth, and the way he pinned her body to him. He raised his head and smiled, and Elena's eyes fixated on the blood decorating his mouth.

“We should be getting back,” she said quietly. “Stefan will be waiting.”

His mouth quirked, and Elena felt a pang of lust and hunger, all coiled together into one tight ball in her chest. She was pretty sure that if she didn't move, she would quickly cross a line she wasn't ready for yet. She stumbled away from the destroyed tent, and the two unconscious campers, and she was almost at the lodge when Damon appeared at her side again.

“You'll get used to it,” he said. “The feeding... it'll become second nature to you. You won't even think about it.”

“Don't,” she said, as the hunger flared inside her, unsatiated.

He grabbed her chin, and pulled her around, studying her. His mouth was clean again, and Elena was both relieved and strangely disappointed. “I have a supply of blood at home,” he said. “That is, if Stefan hasn't finished it off already – he's had a very hearty appetite of late.”

“How long before I can control this?” she asked. “How long before I can go near someone without wanting to eviscerate them?”

He shrugged nonchalantly, as if she were asking about the weather. “It won't be any time soon,” he said. “You'll need to keep yourself nice and full on banked blood just to stave off the worst of it – but it isn't just the blood itself, as I'm sure you've already figured out.”

Elena remembered the thrill she felt at the thought of hunting, and nodded warily. “How can you walk into a bar with all that going on inside you?” she asked.

“Alcohol is your friend,” he said, with a shrug. “Takes the edge off.”

Elena snorted. “It didn't seem to help Stefan,” she said.

“Stefan has a whole side order of issues going on,” Damon said. “None of which are your problem. You've definitely got enough on your plate.”

Elena looked at the light that glowed from Stefan's bedroom window, and felt a pang of regret. “I've let him down,” she said.

“You _survived_,” Damon said, emphatically. “Trust me, there's nothing romantic about being a body in the ground. He'll get over it.”

“Will he?” Elena asked. “I'm not so sure.”

Damon rolled his eyes. “He loves you, Elena,” he ground out. “He'll come around - worst luck.”

Elena rose an eyebrow. “What's that supposed to mean?” she asked.

“Face it, Elena, you're a lot more fun when he's not around.”

Elena thumped his arm. “I can be fun!”

“Oh, believe me, I know you can.” He gave her a knowing look. “I remember Georgia.” He dragged her towards the house. “We need to get you cleaned up and fed,” he said. “Something tells me that _Uncle John_ isn't finished with us yet, and I need to pay Pearl a visit and tell her to lay off the midnight visits to the local blood bank...fun, fun, fun.”

“Someone might think you're becoming all responsible,” Elena teased.

“Not even in jest, little girl.” He came to a standstill. “Although you do have a point,” he said. “Why am I doing this?”

“Because you secretly have a hankering for small town life?”

He eyed her. “How about you?” he asked.

“What about me?”

“Are you happy here?”

Elena blinked. “What are you asking, Damon?”

There was a long pause. “Never mind,” he said, pulling her into the house. “Get changed. I'll check our blood supply.”

And Elena found herself alone in the hallway. “What just happened there?” she murmured to herself, before shaking her head. She had enough on her mind, without trying to untangle Damon's. She grabbed the backpack that Jeremy had dropped off and climbed the stairs. Stefan was waiting for her on the landing.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hi,” Elena said softly.

“_I'm sorry,_” they said, in unison, and Elena laughed.

“I shouldn't have spoken to you like that,” Stefan said, with a small smile. “I've been there. I remember how it feels. I was...unfair.”

“I'm sorry too,” Elena said. “You know this isn't what I wanted.”

Stefan opened his arms, and Elena ran into them.

“We can work this out,” he said. “We can make this work.” He kissed her, and Elena eagerly responded. She felt her fangs lengthen.

“Stefan,” she murmured, as the taste of his blood filled her mouth.

He reared back, and Elena caught a panicked expression flit across his face. “I can't do this,” he said, as he stumbled back. “I'm so sorry, Elena, I can't”

He sped down the steps, and Elena stood there, stunned, as she heard the front door slam. She ran to the balustrade, and saw Damon looking up at her, an indiscernible expression on his face.

“Well, isn't that just peachy,” he said.


	6. Chapter Six

Damon awoke and stretched out lazily on his bed, reveling in the warm, familiar scent of Elena that now pervaded his room. He was_ ridiculously_ happy at this new turn of events; it was slightly unnerving.

“At last,” Elena said, as he opened his eyes. “You've been asleep for hours. I've been climbing the walls.” She was curled up on the armchair beside his bed, her chin on her knees.

“And hello to you too, Sunshine,” he said. “Didn't Stefan come home, last night, to entertain you?”

Elena made a face. “I don't want to talk about Stefan,” she said. “I need to _do_ something.”

“Ah, we've got to stage two, have we?” Damon asked, as he bounced off the bed. Elena's eyes followed him around the room. He decided he liked the sensation.

“I feel like I'm crawling out of my skin,” she said quietly. “It's almost worse than yesterday...I though it eased off once you fed.”

Damon gave her a lopsided smile. “Welcome to the cycle of life,” he said. “You eat, you get full, you get hungry again, you eat--” He rolled his hand, a mime of a fast forward. “You get the picture. Help yourself to the blood in the fridge.”

She blushed. “Uh, about that...”

Damon fought the urge to burst out laughing at the guilty expression on her face. “Elena, are trying to tell me the cupboard is bare?”

I just got so _hungry,_” she admitted.

“Huh, I guess we'll just call you Goldilocks,” Damon said. He watched her as she moved a strand of hair behind her ear; she looked so lonely, so _vulnerable_, curled up in his chair. He pulled out his phone, and noticed that there was a waiting text message from the Sheriff. He ignored it, and rang Stefan. He answered at the second ring.

“_Something happened to Elena?_” he asked, getting straight to the point.

“You mean, other than the fact that she got staked saving your life, died, and then came back a vampire?” he drawled, “Oh, yes, everything is just...tickety boo.” He paused, suddenly realising he was angry. Stefan was supposed to be the nice one, the _human_ one - so why the hell wasn't he living up to his reputation and helping Elena through this? “We're out of blood,” he said, getting straight to the point. “I need you to pick some up for us – I'd do it myself, but I'm already on babysitting duty.” He saw Elena flinch, and regretted his words.

“_I'll be a couple of hours_,” said Stefan.

“We'll bake you a cake,” Damon said, before flipping his phone closed.

“My Aunt Jenna is going to be worried,” Elena said, “She'll go to Sheriff if I don't make an appearance.”

“I put your brother on lying-to-your-family duty,” Damon said. “It should be entertaining.”

Elena groaned. “Jeremy is not exactly known for his skills at dissembling.

“Where as _you _are a natural,” Damon said.

“It's not funny, Damon.”

“I didn't think it was,” he said. He pulled on his shirt, and watched Elena's eyes linger at the movement. That was one of the things about being new. One urge ran into another, and it became difficult to separate them out. “Oh, what a tangled web,” he said, under his breath.

Elena frowned. “What?”

Oops, note to self, Elena's hearing isn't human anymore. He gave her a long look. “Look, this is going to be messy, but your life it isn't...irretrievable. First things first, we need to find your friend Bonnie and get her to do the necessary mumbo-jumbo to create a ring for you.”

“But Stefan said-”

“Stefan said a lot of things,” Damon said shortly. “But he isn't here, so I guess we'll just have to muddle through by ourselves.” He threw his phone at her. “Call her.”

She bit her lip, but tapped in the number, and Damon watched as she waited for Bonnie to answer.

“_Yes?_” came Bonnie's voice. “_Who is this?_”

“It's Elena,” Elena said.

“_Oh... right..._”

There was an awkward silence, and Elena bit her lip. “I need your help,” she eventually admitted.

“_Is it **you** that needs the help, or are you looking for help for someone else?_” Damon raised an eyebrow at that. Bonnie's voice, initially cool, now took on an arctic chill. So much for BFFs forever.

“It's complicated,” Elena said, in a small voice.

“_It always is_,” Bonnie said, before sighing. “_I'm sorry, Elena, but I can't-_”

In a flash, Damon was across the room, and had the phone in his hand. “Bonnie, Damon here. Quick newsflash – saying no is not an option.”

“_Don't even try to threaten me_,” Bonnie said flatly.

“Oh, Bonnie, Bonnie, Bonnie, this isn't a threat,” he said. “This is a promise. Surely you know the difference?”

There was a pause. “_You can't touch me,_” she said eventually. “_I know how to defend myself now_.”

“Ah, but Bonnie, I should have thought that by now you'd have learned one of life's bittersweet lessons – that no man is an Island.”

“_What are you saying?_”

“You _know_ what I'm saying,” Damon said. “Oh, and Bonnie? Bring the book.” he flipped the phone closed, only to find Elena glaring at him.

“I can't believe you did that,” Elena said. “Bonnie is my best friend.”

“Correction, she _was_ your best friend. I think you'll find the goalposts have shifted somewhat over the last few days."

“You really don't get it, do you?” Elena said. “It's like there's some weird disconnect in your brain, that prevents you from understanding the concept of friendship and loyalty. I've known Bonnie all of my life. When my parents died, she was there for me. You can't just treat her like that. You can't threaten her family and friends.”

“Oh, I think you'll find I can treat her any way I like,” Damon said, before relenting in the face of her expression. “Relax, I'm not going to hurt her, but it was obvious she wasn't going to do what we asked by saying pretty please. And you _do_ want to see the sun again, don't you?”

“There are better ways, Damon,” she said quietly.

Damon's mouth twisted. “But this is the most expedient one,” he said. “And we don't have a lot of wiggle room at the moment – the council are looking for _Vampires_, Elena. They're looking for people who don't come out before dark, and are new in town, or are suddenly acting out of character. You tick two of those three boxes. That's an attention grabber.”

“You seem very worried about-” Elena broke off, her head lifting, as the sound of the doorbell came from downstairs.

“Hold that thought,” Damon said, “I'll be back. Stay here.” he closed the door behind him, to reinforce the point, before blurring down the stairs. He picked up Anna's scent before he opened the door.

“Now is not a good time,” he said.

“Relax, I come in peace,” Anna said, leaning against the doorway as she looked over his shoulder. “You've got company?”

“Don't ask questions when you already know the answers, Anna,” he said. “It's rather boring.”

Anna smiled at him slyly. “Fee, fie, foe, fum, I smell the blood of a Gilbert turned.”

He looked at her through narrowed eyes. “Are you trying to pick a fight with me, Anna?” he asked.

“Believe it or not, I'm here to bury the hatchet.” she said, wryly, as she tried to enter the house.

“Bury it where, in my back?” Damon said, blocking her way.

Anna gave him a disbelieving look. “You're really not going to let me into your house, are you?”

“What were you expecting, tea and Parcheesi?” Damon asked. “Your merry little band of bloodsuckers kidnapped my brother, and then skewered him like a kebab. Kind of puts the kibosh on any future social engagements, don't you think?”

“Mother is very sorry about that.”

“Oh yes, I can see how she is really tore up by her complete...absence.”

“You're not going to let this go, are you?” she sighed.

“It's kind of hard to do that when you're still messing with my _life_,” he said, frustrated..

She frowned. “What are you talking about?”

“What am I talking about? Seriously?” Damon asked. “The town council is looking for Vampires again, Anna. The mass exodus of their hospital's blood bank supply has rung a few alarm bells. I wonder why _that _would be?”

“Damon, the others have gone,” she said, puzzled. “There's only Mother, Harper and I left.”

“Gone where?”

“_Away_,” she ground out, before taking a breath to calm herself. “Mother threw them out. She couldn't forgive them for trying to overthrow her.”

“I feel your loss,” Damon said. “_Goodbye._”

Her hand rose to stop the door, before he could slam it closed. “We're trying to apologise, Damon,” she said.

“Duly noted,” he said. “Now why don't you go and find someone else to annoy?

“Fine, have it your own way,” she said, as he closed the door.

He turned to find Elena standing behind him. “Sheriff Forbes just texted you again,” she said, holding up his phone. “Something about a council issue.”

“My, aren't I popular today,” he muttered. Elena watched, arms crossed, as he dialled the number. The Sheriff didn't answer.

Elena eyed him. “What's going on, Damon?” she asked.

“That's the question I keep asking myself, over the last few days,” he muttered. He found his good mood dwindling under the events of the day. When had his life got so...so... complicated?

And then Elena touched his arm, and he remembered why.

“Are you alright?” she asked quietly.

He smiled at her. “Better than I should be,” he admitted, and she quirked an eyebrow at him. A car pulled in front of the lodge and they both turned at the noise. Damon made his way to the windows, and twitched aside a curtain.

 

“Elena, get upstairs,” he said.

“Who is it?” She asked.

“Your uncle and the Sheriff,” he said. “Get upstairs, I have to open the curtains.” Elena nodded and blurred up the steps. Damon blinked. He wasn't sure if he'd ever get used to seeing her as something other than completely human.

The bell rang, and Damon took a steadying breath.

Showtime.


	7. Chapter 7

Damon liked to think he had a well developed sense of irony, but this situation was definitely stretching it to it's limits. Here he was, with a hungry fledgling Vampire stashed upstairs, listening to the Sheriff devise a plan to dry up his blood supply, while the aforementioned fledgling's uncle tried to weasel his way into spending time with him...alone.

This man wasn't as afraid of him as he should be.

He would have to rectify that.

“Of course. Sheriff,” he said, aloud. “Whatever I can do to help the town, I'm sorry you couldn't contact me earlier – family stuff” He mentally thanked Pearl. He'd been slowly watering down the vervain extract he'd been supplying to the council, after her little visit. The last batch would only lasted a few hours in their systems before it wore off, and the ones who were wearing it, instead of ingesting it, seemed to be friends of Elena rather than the council. He wondered if he'd been too hasty fobbing off Anna, earlier – maybe it wasn't too late to build bridges.

Meanwhile, Sheriff Forbes was nodding understandingly at him. “No need to explain,” she said, “I know how it is raising a teen by yourself. I saw Stefan earlier.”

Damon blinked. Oh, this was just getting better and better...

“How bad was it?” he asked, putting on his responsible older brother face.

“Let's just say he seemed very... boisterous,” the Sheriff said.

“Teens these days, huh?” Damon said, his mind going over implications. He didn't like them; he was beginning to get a sneaking suspicion he knew who the blood thief was.

“Tell me about it,” the Sheriff said, oblivious to his thoughts.

“Sorry to cut into your parental bonding,” Gilbert said, impatiently. “But maybe Damon and I should start immediately on tracking down the source of the blood theft. We don't want to lose any time on this. Who knows what they're up to.”

Sheriff Forbes nodded. “You're right,” she said, getting to her feet. “And if I haven't said it before, I'll say it again – thank you for this. I need all the extra help I can get”

“It's our pleasure, Elizabeth,” said Gilbert. “Anything to help the town. Isn't that right, Damon?”

“Oh, most definitely,” Damon drawled, before he showed the Sheriff to the door, and waved her off.

He waited until the Sheriff's car disappeared from view before he spun on his feet. Jonathan Gilbert was standing in the middle of his parlour as if he owned the place, his arms crossed in front of him. Rage began to build up inside him, but he kept it still, behind a smirk.

“You really have no sense of self preservation, do you?” Damon asked. “And why are you suddenly so hot to track down these vampires? It's a bit selective, isn't it? Considering the many and various Vampires you have the pleasure of knowing – how's Isobel, by the way?”

“Isobel is just fine, and it's really quite simple, actually,” Gilbert said. “I need information. Information that you may be able to get foe me. You see, the other John Gilbert, the one who died a crazed gibbering idiot, thanks to you and your ilk, created something Isobel and I want. Something that one of your little Vampire friends, one that you freed from the crypt, has.”

“And what would that be, _John_,” Damon asked, suddenly distracted by a new scent. Elena's brother was back. He was circling the house...

“You don't need to know that,” said Gilbert. “All you need to know is a name – Pearl. Ring a bell?”

Damon went still. Well, that answered one question. “Time for you to leave,” he said. “Now.”

“Think_ again_,” Gilbert said. “I'm not going anywhere until I have what I want.”

“Yeah, well the quid pro quo thing kind of flew out the window when you showed your hand,” Damon said. “The only reason I went along with this farce was because I thought you might lead me to Katherine. I guess I was wrong – because, if you knew Katherine, you'd know that Pearl was her best friend.” He gestured at the door. “Leave, before I start getting creative.”

“I'll tell them,” Gilbert spat out. “I'll spill you dirty little secret to the council, and you'll be hunted down.”

“Wrong move,” Damon said, “ Because if you think I'll go quietly, then you don't know me very well. I'll kill each and every one of the people to talk to, and then I'll come after you, rip your ring off, and then rip your _head_ off. Do we understand each other?”

“This isn't over,” Gilbert said lowly.

“Oh yes it is, you just haven't figured it yet,” Damon said, as he pulled open the front door. He glared, with barely concealed rage, as Gilbert stalked out of the house, and slammed it closed. He glanced upstairs, as he passed the stairs. He'd close the curtains in a moment, first he had to deal with the brother.

Jeremy Gilbert was waiting for him on the brightly lit patio area, behind the house. His last trip to the lodge had obviously taught him at least one lesson. Hungry fledgling Vampires don't do family, they just eat them.

“How is she?” he asked, without preamble.

“Hungry,” Damon said.

He nodded unsurely. “I read what happened with Vicki, in her diary,” he said, “How she wanted to kill me.”

“Elena doesn't want to kill you, kid,” Damon said shortly. “Neither did Vicki, for that matter. It's the hunger; emotional ties trigger it... think of it as a kind of compliment.”

Jeremy gave him a long look. “Do you have any idea how twisted that sounds?"

Damon shrugged. “Vampire,” he said simply. “What's in the bag?” he gestured at the satchel at Jeremy's feet.

“Uh, stuff I forgot when I packed the last bag,” he admitted. “The chargers for her phone and ipod, stuff from her bathroom cabinet...I've got her homework from Alaric? I know how stupid that sounds, but I thought she might need the distraction and-”

“Thanks,” Damon said, interrupting before the kid rambled himself into oblivion. He was actually beginning to like Elena's brother. He was obviously terrified out of his mind, but he was still here. That took a kind of courage – the _insane_ kind, but still....

“Is it still too soon to see her?” he asked quietly.

Damon hesitated. “I'd give it a week,” he said eventually. “She'll still be tetchy, but she should be able to keep it in check.”

He nodded. “She's going to miss the Miss Mystic Falls court,” he said. “Jenna got a call from the Founder's event manager this morning, wondering if she was going to turn up for the dance rehearsal.”

“Elena was going to be presented at the Miss Mystic Falls dance...really?” Damon asked, with a smirk. “I didn't think that was Elena's bag.”

“It wasn't,” Jeremy said wryly. “It was Mom's - that's why Jenna isn't kicking up too much of a fuss about Elena's disappearance. She's angry with her, but she's not worried yet. Your little road trip to Georgia set a precedent. She pretty much believes this is Elena's established behaviour pattern when she's upset.”

“Nothing like a dysfunctional family unit to make the lies run smoother,” Damon observed.

“_You_ should know.”

Oh, touché, little bro,” Damon drawled. “Now skedaddle!”

Which he did, with great alacrity.

Damon turned and looked at the house, and wondered why he was still here. He had come back to Mystic Falls for Katherine, and yet somehow found himself playing nursemaid to her doppelgänger – and _liking_ it.

“There must be something wrong with me,” he muttered, and then laughed. There had been something wrong with him for longer than he could remember. It was what attracted Katherine to him, in the first place.

He entered the house, and made short work of the curtains. “Elena, you can come out now,” he called out. There was no answer. Damon frowned as he extended his senses. She wasn't upstairs anymore, and she wasn't on the first floor...he felt a shiver of something he'd rather not identify as he entertained the idea she'd run out into the sun, but he dismissed it almost immediately. Some fledglings couldn't hack it, but something told him that immolation wouldn't be an option Elena would entertain.

That only left the lower levels, under the basement. The bedrock made it difficult for his senses to penetrate them, which is also what made it so easy for his dear departed nephew to betray him, by growing vervain in one of the cells down there. There were also the old servant stairs, at the back of the house, which purposely had no windows, and Elena knew about them.

He made his way into the bowels of the house, and eventually picked up her scent. He found her in the narrow corridor that led to farthest cells. She was crouched down against the wall, her eyes dilated and red with hunger. Her fingers were digging into the ground beneath her, making short work of the packed earth.

“Elena?” he asked.

She didn't answer, and Damon crouched down beside her and looked into her eyes. The blood lust was in the driver's seat, Elena wasn't at home. He put a steadying hand on her shoulder as his nostrils flared, and he suddenly picked up what had set her off. There was blood, a _lot_ of blood.

He glanced at the closed door at the end of the corridor, as his ears now picked up movement. He tried the lock, it was dead-bolted, but he put his shoulder into it, and it gave. Stefan was seated in the middle of the room, his face wet with blood. There was an empty donor's bag in his hand. A freezer, that hadn't been there a week before, stood open. It was stocked high with blood products.

Damon felt his rage run high, but tamped it down. Now was not a good time to lose it.

“Enjoying your snack, are you?” he asked.

“You're not in a position to judge,” Stefan said lowly.

Damon gave him a long look. “You do realise Elena is out in the hall, practically senseless from blood lust, don't you? You can't just lead a fledging to this much blood, and then not expect her to lose it...she's barely hanging on by her fingernails.”

“I didn't...” Stefan started. “I came down here to get her some, and then I guess I just lost track of time...”

“You can make your excuses later,” Damon said, as he snatched a bag from the freezer and left the room. Elena hadn't moved from the spot he'd left her, and he sat down beside her. “Here you go,” he said quietly.

She ripped through it voraciously, tilting her head back, so that the blood flowed down her throat more easily. On instinct, he stroked her hair. It felt smooth and fine under his touch.

“Easy,” he said. “There's plenty more.”

“Don't think I don't know!”

Damon looked up to see his brother standing over them, a mutinous expression on his face. “Know what, Stefan?”

“What you want, what you're hoping to get,” Stefan said. “But it's never going to happen. Whether she's human or a Vampire, she's _never_ going to accept who you are. She's never going to want you – not really.”

And then he was gone, retreating upstairs before Damon could formulate an answer. Not that there was one.

Stefan had only spoken the truth, after all.


	8. Chapter 8

One step forward, two steps back.

Damon eyed Elena, who was draped out on the couch. Her chest rose and fell softly as her body, finally sated, had succumbed to sleep. The little progress she had made controlling her hunger had been pretty much demolished by her little foray into the basement, so her sleep would probably not last for long. He would have moved her upstairs, except he had a vague recollection that Elena's presence would be needed to make the ring. Throw in Bonnie's freezer cold attitude at the moment, and things could get messy.

Damon shrugged. He could live with that, as long as he got the ring first...or the book.

He cleaned up all the available evidence of blood consumption, and tried to come up with a game plan for the next few days. With Stefan feeding on human blood, their situation had destabilised drastically. Stefan's control was an issue, and that's not even broaching all the nasty personality adjustments that come from consuming so much human blood, after abstaining for so long. No, baby brother would have to be brought to heel, and quickly, before he moved from the packaged to the free ranged variety.

The doorbell rang, and Elena started on the couch. “Stay there,” he said, as she opened her eyes. “Try not to move. No matter what happens.”

He made it to door in record time, and found the witch scowling on the other side. “This is a one time deal,” she said, “You try this again, even through Elena, and I will do everything in my power to take you down.”

“Duly noted,” Damon said, as he stood aside to let her enter.

Cautiously, she stepped inside, looking around her as if it were a lion's den. Which he supposed it was, allegorically speaking. It didn't take her long to spot Elena on the couch, and it was only another split second before she realised her friend's new state.

“I suppose it was just a matter of time,” she said quietly.

Damon spotted Elena's flinch, and promptly lost all patience with the situation. “Enough chit chat,” he said. “We need you to make a ring for Elena, like the one your dear ancestor made for me. He flashed his ring finger in a rude gesture, and Bonnie's lip curled.

“I'll need some of Elena's blood, and some of yours – I presume you were the one who turned her?”

“It was my blood that was in her system when she died, yes,” he said.

She raised an eyebrow at his turn of words, but didn't ask for any elaboration. “I'll need a _Lapis Lazuli_ stone – you have one of those knocking around? Other than the one on your finger, that is?”

He stalked across the room, and opened a small cedar box on top of the fire place. He lopped the small stone he found inside it at Bonnie. “That'll do?”

She studied the stone she'd caught. “It looks okay.”

“How much blood do you need?”

“A few drops will do,” Bonnie's eyes strayed to Elena, but she was busy studying her hands. Damon had a pretty good idea what was going through Elena's head at that moment.

“Kitchen's through there,” he said abruptly. “Give us five minutes, she's still a little hinky around blood.”

Bonnie nodded before making a beeline for the kitchen, and Damon went to the drinks cabinet and retrieved two clean glasses, before joining her on the couch.

"Oh god, oh god, oh god,” Elena said lowly, when Damon sat. “I nearly threw myself at her.”

“Try to remember who she is, rather than what,” he said. “It sometimes helps.”

"Sometimes, but not all the time,” Elena said shakily

Damon gave her a long look. “It's probably going to happen eventually, you know,” he said. “You'll try to avoid it, but something will happen, and the next thing you know you'll be ripping through someone's throat, and you won't want to stop. It's what we are. Learning to be in control of the hunger, rather than letting the hunger be in control of you, is one of the toughest things to learn.”

He bit into his wrist, and let his blood drip into one of the glasses. Her nose flared and her eyes became veined. He reached for her arm. “Your turn,” he said, as he bit into the fragile skin inside her wrist, and let her blood dribble into the other glass. The wound healed almost immediately. Stefan's contraband had done some good.

“You okay, still in control?” he asked.

“Holding on by the tips of my fingernails,” she said, with a shaky laugh.

“It'll be okay, Elena.”

“You keep saying that,” Elena said. “But I having difficulty believing it.”

Damon smirked. “Chin up,” he said. “Look at this way - you're already dead, how could things get worse?”

She rolled her eyes. “Go and talk to Bonnie, I'll be fine.”

“Ah yes, another delectable interlude with the charming Miss Bonnie, this is going to be fun.”

“Don't _hurt_ her, Damon,” Elena warned, before throwing his words back at him. “Remember _who_ she is, not what.”

He gave her a sloppy salute as he left the room, and headed for the kitchens. Bonnie was seated at the table, her implements and Grimoire laid out in front of her.

“Blood,” he said, raising the tumblers. “Mine and Elena's.” The tumblers thudded softly as they met the table.

She nodded. “Good,” she said, “I have all I need.”

Damon tilted his head, “Don't you need Elena?”

“I have her blood, it's enough,” she said abruptly.

“Funny,” Damon said. “Because I don't remember Emily saying that.”

Bonnie glared at him, before sliding the Grimoire across the table. “You don't believe me? Have a look for yourself.”

Damon glanced down, recognising Emily's distinctive hand, even after all this time. “Katherine trusted Emily, you know, they were real tight,” he said lightly. “That was why I was so...disappointed, when I realised she was trying to prevent me from opening the tomb. Now, of course, I know that Katherine wasn't in the tomb in the first place, which puts a whole new spin on things, don't you think?”

Bonnie frowned at him. “What are you trying to say?”

“Oh, c'mon, Bonnie, you're a bright girl. You know exactly what I'm saying. Emily _used_ you, to follow Katherine's agenda, rather than her family's,” he said. “She didn't want you to open the tomb because she didn't want Katherine's secret getting out, not because of what the Vampires might do.” He laughed. “I guess that makes us both suckers...and now I wonder why Emily insisted on both of us being present when she made our ring stones, when this-” He pointed at the page. “Doesn't even mention it.”

“Maybe this wasn't the only spell she wrought that night,” Bonnie said, before she could stop herself. “Forget I said that.”

Damon looked at her. “You know that isn't going to happen,” he said.

“You just can't let anything go, can you?” Bonnie sighed. “You'd better leave while I do this,” she said, as she lit a match. Damon smiled at her, mockingly, as she proceeded to light the four candles on the table, and left.

~~~*~*~*~~~

 

Bonnie's heartbeat thrummed through the house like a taunt, and Elena counted off her fingers on her lap, as she tried to get her hunger under control. She'd almost given up, when Damon appeared at her side again.

“Time to go upstairs, I think,” he said, after taking one look at her.

“Has Stefan come back yet?” she asked abruptly. She had only meant to change the subject from that of Bonnie's presence, but she found herself suddenly in more charged waters. She only dimly remembered Stefan's words in the basement, but it was enough.

“No,” Damon said coolly, and didn't say another word as they climbed the stairs. That in itself was a warning that all was not well on the Damon front, and an angry Damon was a dangerous Damon.

“You didn't tell me what Jeremy said,” she said, changing the subject again, when they entered Damon's bedroom..

He gave her a long look. “Apparently, you're missing the great honour of being presented at the Miss Mystic Fall's competition. Aren't _you_ disappointed.”

“Oh yeah, I'm devastated,” she snarked back, before adding, in a quieter voice. “I'd completely forgotten about it, actually. Mom was the one who entered me, before she died. It seems like forever ago... I was still going to do it, though, for her.”

“Well, it's not all it's cracked up to be, trust me,” Damon said, as he threw himself on the bed, and grinned up at her. “A lot of overblown dresses and cheap wine, and a dance that went out of fashion with the civil war.”

“I used to watch that dance when I was little, I thought it was cute,” Elena protested.

“Oh, sure, cute to look at, but have you ever tried dancing it? It's all _back straight, hands up, mind your posture, Mr Salvatore, you aren't going to a barn dance_.”

Elena laughed as she saw the expression on his face, and sat down beside him. “Seriously, you had dancing lessons?”

“Back then, dancing was considered an art that all true gentlemen learned, even if they didn't practice it – it was not my favourite pastime.”

“Oh, what was that, then?”

“Wouldn't _you_ like to know.”

Elena found herself colouring. “Well, I suppose I should forget about it, anyway, it's not like it's going to happened.

Damon looked at her, and then rolled his eyes dramatically. “Fine, you've twisted my arm,” he said. “Get up.”

“What?”

“I said, get up,” he pulled her off the bed, and Elena stood in front of him, flustered. He dropped the needle on his record player, and the voice of Ella Fitzgerald filled the room. Elena raised an eyebrow

“Really? Jazz?”

“Hey, it's Ella and Louis, they're perfect for _any_ occasion, trust me.” He bowed elaborately. “Now it's your turn,” he hissed, out of the corner of his mouth.

Elena laughed, and gave him an exaggerated curtsey, complete with sweeping hands.

“Fantastic,” he declared. “I declare you a natural – now, right hand up, palm out – and _do _ remember to keep that back straight.”

She mirrored his actions, a barely suppressed grin on her face, and they circled each other at a stately pace, their hands nearly, but not quite, touching.

“What comes next?” she asked.

“Next? Well, in a stunning display of dance choreography, we switch hands and directions.”

“Oh, I see,” she said, with a laugh, and they stumbled against the edge of a footstool, as they tried to navigate the bedroom with their steps.

“I seem to remember this dance being a lot smoother, when I was little,” Elena teased.

“Hey, I'll show you smooth,” he declared. He pulled her against him, folding her body against him, as he swung her around in a waltz step.

“I don't think this is part of the dance,” she said, a little breathlessly.

“Close enough,” he murmured. The song stopped, but they kept moving, swaying to an invisible beat.

“We should probably stop,” Elena said quietly.

“Should we?”

She tilted her head up to look at him. “Damon, I...”

He kissed her, and Elena felt her lips parting, letting him in. A small part of her, in the back of her mind, told her that this really, _really_ wasn't a good idea, but as he deepened the kiss, his tongue tracing the sharp edge of her extending fangs, she ignored it and gave in to the heady sensation of Damon's mouth. Blood coated her tongue – Damon's - and she moaned against him, pulling him closer. For a long, extended moment, they were locked together, and everything was forgotten.

A sharp rap on the bedroom door broke through the haze, and Elena pulled back, to see Bonnie looking at her with a stunned expression on her face.

“Your stone,” Bonnie said, throwing it at Damon. He caught it out of the air.

“Thank you, Bonnie, you know where the door is,” he said.

Bonnie fled the doorway, and Elena felt something catch in her throat. “I..I...should go after her,” she said.

“I'd look in the mirror, first,” Damon said quietly.

“What-” She caught her reflection in the mirror, and realised what Bonnie had seen. Her eyes darkened and veined with hunger, her fangs extended.

Blood on her lips.

“I am never going to get used to this,” she said softly.

”I wouldn't be so sure of that,” Damon replied. "You'll get used to anything, given enough time."


	9. Chapter 9

The tension in the air after Bonnie had left was almost palpable, and Elena moved out of Damon's arms, embarrassment flaring her face.

“We'll need a silversmith to work a ring around the stone,” Damon eventually said, his tone light. “I'll take care of it tonight. By tomorrow, you'll be able to move around in daylight again.”

She wasn't sure how she felt about that. Sure, she felt cooped up and caged but, on the other hand, those outside were safer. She obviously couldn't rely on herself for control, and she doubted Damon would be happy playing chaperone forever, and things between them were getting complicated enough.

Some of this was obviously playing across her face, because he sighed. “Trust me, Elena, you don't want to spend eternity in the dark,” he said, in a voice that was almost too gentle for him. His cell phone rang, and his mouth twisted, and Elena sensed he was a split second from smashing it against the wall.

“You'd better answer it,” she said. He made a face at her, but answered.

“_Damon, there's been another attack._” Across the room, Elena could distinctly make out the voice of Caroline's mother, the Sheriff.

“Where?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at Elena.

“_By the highschool,_” she said. “_The girl is still alive, but she doesn't remember anything.”_

_“Same old, same old,” he said. “I'll meet you there.” He hung up, and didn't even pause before he rang his next number. It went straight into voicemail. “Stefan,” he said. “Call me.”_

_“You have to find him,” Elena said urgently, when he hung up. “He's not himself at the moment.”_

_“You think?” Damon asked, sharply, as he reached for his closet and pulled out a fresh shirt. _

_Elena glared at him, until she got distracted by the set of his shoulders as he took his shirt off, and looked away. She tried to think of something else, _anything_ else. She was seeing Stefan, for crying out loud, she shouldn't be drooling over his brother like this. _

At least, she was seeing Stefan a few days ago. She didn't know what to call it now... and she was hungry... Why couldn't she stop thinking about blood - and Damon - and blood _and_ Damon, and how could she be so grossed out and turned on at the same time?

And many times does the guy need to change his shirt in one day?

Damon caught her eyes through the reflection in his mirror. “I can hear you thinking from all the way over here, you know,” he said.

“Not literally, I hope,” she groaned. Something flitted through his eyes, and Elena felt herself tense. “Oh god, you _did_ mean it literally.”

“I probably could get into your head, if I tried,” he admitted, with a shrug. “It's one of the perks of being a Vampire...it'll be a few years before you're strong enough to keep me out.”

“And do I _need _to keep you out,” Elena asked tartly.

“The answer is no, Elena, I'm not reading your mind,” he said, turning around. He held up a tie in each hand. “Which one should I wear?” he asked. Elena pointed at the grey. A blur of hands had it neatly tied.

“How long will you be gone,” she eventually asked.

“Two hours, tops,” he said briefly.

Elena bit her lip. Truth be told, she wasn't sure if she'd last that long. Every time she let her mind stray, it went back to the night she was turned, and the taste of fresh blood in her mouth, still warm from the vein...

“Elena!” Damon's fingers snapped in front of her face.

She shuddered. “I don't think I'll be able to do this,” she admitted, eventually. “Maybe you should lock me in.”

“Not a freakin' chance,” he said. “You'd be too vulnerable. I wouldn't put it past that uncle of yours to sneak in here when he knows I'm out and try to burn the place down. He seems like the type to feel at home with a pitchfork. Just don't leave the house, and if you get hungry...well, you know where the fridge is.” She felt the sudden, hard pressure of his lips on hers, and moaned as desire flared high.

“I'll be as quick as I can, Elena,” he promised, pulling away. “I promise.” And then he was gone.

The sun was setting outside, and Damon was gone, and she was alone...

“Television,” she told herself firmly, as she got to her feet. She made her way down the stairs slowly, in an effort to catch hold of herself, and homed in on the TV set in the corner. In all her time at the lodge, she had never seen it turned on, but it crackled to life when she clicked the switch. She picked up the remote lying on top of it.

“_Brylcream, the best hair-”_

_“But, Harry, you can't leave me-”_

_“Set phasers to stun-_”

It was official, she was going to go crazy.

Elena eyed the closed drapes, concealing only the night now, and bit her lip as she considered the laden bookshelves upstairs. She didn't think she could sit still long enough to read and-

A thought flashed through her mind, her diary!

She flew upstairs, pulled it from her backpack, and opened it. Her eyes rested on her last entry, her fingers tracing the words. She was suddenly aware that these were her last words written as a human being.

They were saturated with Stefan's presence and love.

She bit her lip, and flipped back through pages. Here was the day she first met Stefan, and there was the day she found out he was vampire. A few pages later, was Vicki's death, and the first true entry that featured Damon. She had hated him so much then, where had all that hatred gone?

A few pages later, she was reading about their mad, bad trip to Atlanta, and she found herself smiling. He had put on quite a performance, and she had gone along with it, despite knowing it was exactly that.

Her eyes fell on the pages that described her and Stefan's decision to stop Damon opening the tomb, and felt something inside her stop. She remembered the rage and betrayal in Damon's eyes, she remembered the taste of his blood in her mouth...

That was the day everything changed.

She flipped a few pages forward, and read about the day she discovered Damon had turned her mother. That day, it felt like the betrayal had been on the other foot although, in truth, that had not been what happened. It had been a crass accident, at least on Damon's behalf.

Her Uncle John was another matter.

She slapped the diary closed as she felt her anger threaten to take hold. She needed to stay in control of herself. Her phone, newly charged, rang from it's position on the bedside table, and Elena, grateful for the distraction, picked it up – it was Jeremy! She kicked herself for not thinking of this before. She may not be able to see Jeremy face to face, but she could handle a phone call!

“Jer?” she said, answering.

“_No, it's Anna,_” came a familiar, terse voice. “_Is Damon with you? I tried to call his cell, but I got nothing_.”

“Damon's not here – why are you on Jer's phone? Put him on.”

Elena could sense the hesitation on the other side of the phone. “_I don't think I should do that,” she said. “Tell Damon to call me when he gets-”_

“Anna,” Elena growled. “If you don't tell me what has happened to my brother right now, I'm going to phone the Mayor and the Sheriff and tell them both what you and your mother are.”

Another pause. _“Wow, you really are channelling your inner bitch today, aren't you? Damon must be rubbing off on you_.”

“Just tell me!”

_“He's been attacked by a Vampire_,” she said slowly. “_It doesn't look too serious, I'm taking care of it-”_

“Where_ are_ you?”

This time the silence dragged on for a good few seconds, before she answered. “_Elena,_” she said, in a careful voice. “_You need to stay where-_”

“Where ARE YOU!”

“_Elena, you need to think_!”

She heard Jer moan in the background, and the familiar sound of a jukebox. “Never mind, I know where you are,” she pronounced.

And Damon's warnings were ghosts in the wind, as she ran from the house, and sped in the direction of _The Grill_.


	10. Chapter 10

The woods behind the school were deserted, and the scent of vampire was hours old. It was also definitely Stefan's. Damon scowled, he had expected Stefan to have gone hunting when he didn't come home last night, but he had also hoped he would have had enough smarts to hunt a few towns over.

Apparently, he had been hoping for too much.

“We found her over there,” the Sheriff was saying, flashing her flashlight towards the left, as they traipsed through the underbrush. There was blood spray on the bark of a tree, and even some on the ground. Nothing a human eye could pick up, but noticeable to a Vampire.

Damon resisted the urge to snarl and tried to plaster a concerned look on his face, in order to mask the distinctly homicidal urges he was feeling. How the hell could his brother have been so careless? “It seems like the trail has gone cold,” he said aloud.

The sheriff nodded, frustration showing on her face. “I was kind of hoping you might pick up something I didn't see.”

“Sorry, I guess my Spidey senses aren't tingling today,” Damon drawled, as he picked up the direction of Stefan's trail. He had headed back towards town.

“Yes, well, maybe your investigation with John might unearth something,” Sheriff Forbes said, as she led them back to the road. She took out her cellphone and frowned at it. “I don't know why I even take this thing out of the car,” she said. “It seems every time I go off the road, I lose coverage. So much for it being a safety measure.”

Damon frowned, and felt a cold foreboding in his stomach. He whipped out his phone and glared at it. Sure enough, no signal. “Time to get a satellite phone,” he muttered.

“Oh, believe me, I'm thinking about it,” said the Sheriff. “Especially with what happened to Caroline, last week.”

“Yes, she found a body, didn't she,” Damon said absently. A bar suddenly blinked to life on his cellphone, as they neared their cars, and it immediately began to ring, as did the Sheriff's.

“No rest for the wicked,” the Sheriff said wryly, as she answered hers.

“Never a truer word,” Damon muttered, as he eyed the name on the screen. Another conversation with Anna, oh joy.

“_That little baby vamp of yours has a real mean streak_,” were her opening words.

“Well, hello to you, too,” Damon said coolly, looking at the Sheriff, who was having a heated conversation of her own. Something to do with her ex husband.

_“Someone with you?”_ Anna asked.

“Yup.”

_“Right. Get to the grill, ASAP.”_

“You're there?”

“_No, but Elena will be - any moment now.”_

Damon heard the plastic molding of his phone creak in his grasp and forced himself to relax. “Thanks for letting me know – we'll _talk_ later.”

She must have heard the inherent threat in his words, because she chuckled. “_You are so whipped,”_ she said, and then hung up.

“Something important?” the Sheriff asked, as she got off her cell.

“Just more of the same,” he said. “I need to go. I'll contact you later, if I get anything new.”

The Sheriff nodded. “We need to get this cleared up as soon as possible. There are only so many animal attacks a town can get, before the state police become interested.”

“Gotcha,” Damon said flatly, wishing she'd take a hint and let him leave.

“It's Stefan, isn't it?” she asked suddenly. Damon swerved to look at her, and she smiled. “Caroline went through a similar stage, although she seems to be coming out of it,” she said.

In the back of Damon's mind, he wondered if the Sheriff remembered that he 'dated' said daughter, but he decided now was not the time to remind her of that salient fact.

“Are you able to deal with it?” she asked, when he didn't answer.

At this, Damon smiled. “Trust me, I know exactly how to deal with Stefan.”

There must have been something in his voice, because she gave him a long look before she nodded again and headed for her own car. He pulled out his cell again the moment he got into the driver's seat, and tried Elena's phone; she wasn't answering. He then phoned Stefan, but all he got was his voicemail again.

He slammed his fists against the driving wheel, before he pulled the car out onto the road and phoned Anna.

“Tell me,” he demanded.

She got straight to the point._ “Stefan and Jeremy got into an argument outside The Grill. Stefan lost it and attacked Jeremy. I stepped in before he was too hurt. Jeremy is all right, but Stefan freaked out when he realised what he'd done, and ran off. I tried to call you and got no answer, and then I checked Jeremy's phone to get Elena's number, hoping I'd find you with her. She got upset.”_

“Christ, Anna, what were thinking?” he ground out.

“_I tried to calm her down but she was too far gone,” she said. “By the way, your brother seems very out of it...”_

“He's feeding on human blood again.”

There was a pause. “_How long has it been?”_

“How the hell would I know...decades?” Damon said. “Where are you now?”

“_At the motel. I didn't want to bring Jeremy back to his place until he'd recovered enough, and I couldn't exactly bring him back to mine.”_

Damon's lips twitched at the thought of Anna bringing a Gilbert home to Pearl. “I might pay to see that,” he said.

_“I think you have enough bloodshed in your future_,” she said dryly. _“Good luck with that.”_

“Bitch.”

She hung up.

_ The Grill_, Mystic Falls' most popular bar, restaurant and general town hangout, was already half packed when he arrived. He picked up Stefan's scent almost immediately, but it was already fading. He didn't pick up Elena's scent at all.

He paused when he recognised Elena's Aunt, Jenna, at the bar. Alaric was sitting beside her. He wondered how long the two of them were an item, as he nodded and made to walk past them.

“Damon!” Jenna called out, jumping to her feet. “Wait!”

Damon briefly considered pretending not to have heard her, but then decided against it. He had a funny feeling 'Aunt Jenna' was about to become a big part of his life, thanks to Elena, and it would probably not be very bright to get on her bad side.

“Jenna, hi!” he said cheerfully. “How's tricks?” From the look on Alaric's face, he must have laid it on a bit thick. Damon ignored him, and turned his smile on Jenna.

“Have you seen Elena?” she asked, and Damon kicked himself for not seeing this coming.

“No, how long has it been since you've seen her?” he asked, before he had an idea. “Because it's been a few days since I've seen Stefan, too.”

Jenna raised an eyebrow. “You think they might be together?” she asked.

“Well, it's a pretty big coincidence, isn't it?” Damon said, watching her. A worried expression, that reminded him strongly of Elena, flitted across her face; over her shoulder, a dark look crossed Alaric's. Of course, he taught at the highschool, he'd know that Stefan was in school yesterday, and that the dates didn't match up.

“Damn it, I'm not used to Elena being the difficult one,” Jenna said. “Jeremy going off the rails I can handle, I'm almost used to it – but Elena? Is this usual behaviour for Stefan?”

“To be honest, I've probably given Stefan a lot more freedom than your average seventeen year old,” Damon said. “So we're not the best comparison to make.”

Jenna frowned. “How long has it been – you know, since your parents died?”

Damon blinked, no one else had ever thought to ask that question before. “Our mother died when we were both young, Stefan doesn't even remember her. Father died...later.”

“Father... Mother... you're very formal,” Jenna said, looking at him intently, and Damon kicked himself again. The last thing he needed was for Jenna to become...interested.

“Well, what can I say, Dad was a very old fashioned guy,” he said lightly. “Gotta go - call me if you hear from Elena.” And with that, he turned and kept walking until he hit the back exit. He stepped into the dimly lit alley and Elena's scent, sweet and unmistakable, was heavy in the air.

“Shit,” he said, as he realised he'd still been hoping Anna had been wrong

“Talking about shit, what was that story you spun for Jenna in there?” Damon turned to see Alaric standing in the doorway, glowering at him.

“I don't have time for this,” Damon said. “Go back inside.” he stalked down the alley, until he found the spot Jeremy had lost blood. It was difficult to separate the scents out, what with there being three vampires in the alley in such a short period of time, but he eventually picked out Elena's. He needed to find her fast.

“Where the hell is Elena?” Alaric called after him

Damon felt something inside him flip and, within a split moment, he had Alaric slammed up against the wall. “A few words of advice,” he ground out. “You don't want to see Elena right now, you don't want Jenna to see her, either - and, if you do, I'd advise you to not invite her in.”

Alaric paled. “No.”

“Oh _yes,”_” Damon said, letting him go.”Go inside, Rick.”

“You turned her, didn't you?” he said, ignoring Damon's words. “Why the fuck would you do that? Don't try to tell me she asked, because we both know that's BS.”

“It was insurance,” Damon said. “I gave her some of my blood, just in case...it just so happened just in case came a lot sooner than I'd counted on.”

“What the hell am I going to tell Jenna?”

“You're going to tell her nothing,” Damon said. You're going to give me week.”

“A week? What the hell is going to change in a week?”

Damon gave him a cold smile. “A lot more than you'd think,” he promised. “See ya later, Rick.”

He sped out of the alley, stopping when he hit the main street. Elena's scent drifted through the air, and he followed. The streets were familiar, and Damon felt something inside him sink as he realised where she was heading.

Elena was going home

He found her sitting on the seat on her porch, her hands on lap, tears streaking her cheeks.

“I tried to follow Jeremy's scent, but there were so many others, so I gave up and came home, thinking he might be here, but he wasn't, and Aunt Jenna wasn't here, either, and I wanted to go in but, of course...I can't.

Damon nodded slowly as he stepped onto the porch. It was then he noticed the scent of blood. “What happened, Elena?” he asked.

“I....I...got hungry,” she said softly.

Damon sighed. “Is there a body?”

She gave a silent jerk of her head, to where the porch ended, and the unlit garden beyond started.

Damon nodded, and held out his hand. “Time to go, Elena...but first, I have to teach you how to dispose of a body.”

Lips pressed together, eyes not meeting his, she gave him a stiff nod as she placed her hand in his and stood. He led her off the porch.


	11. Chapter 11

Damon sat on the chair beside his bed and watched Elena sleep; it seemed to him he did a lot of that lately. Things were quickly getting out of control, and his usual strategy for this situation - sit back and enjoy the show – wasn't really an option. There were too many variables, too many things that could go wrong; if he weren't careful, this may turn into 1864 all over again.

It had not taken them long to bury the body. They had disposed of it in the woods behind the lodge, and Damon had strewn aniseed in the local vicinity, in order to disorientate any dog searches. He realised the Sheriff would assume Elena's meal was taken by the same Vampire who took the girl in the woods. A bit of luck, for once, as they'd be looking for only one Vampire, not two.

Damon hadn't managed to coax a name out of Elena, yet, she had only told him that her meal was a neighbour. The girl had looked around Elena's age, so there was a good chance they'd grown up together.

But it could have been worse, it could have been a blood relative.

“I can hear you think from over here, you know,” Elena said, her eyes still closed as she echoed his earlier words.

“I thought you were asleep,” he said.

She opened her eyes. “It's difficult to sleep when I can feel you sitting there, brooding.”

“I don't _brood._”

“Sure you don't...come to bed.” she patted the space beside her, and Damon hesitated. Sure, they'd been sharing a bed for the last couple of nights, but that was because Damon had wanted to keep a tight leash on her, not from any twisted sense of...comfort.

He got into the bed beside her, and felt Elena's arm curl around him, her head using his chest as a pillow.

“Sleep,” she said. “It'll seem better in the morning. I have it on good authority."

“I may have exaggerated that part a bit,” he admitted.

Elena snorted, her breath warm against his skin. “Tell me something I don't know.” Her arm tightened around him. “Thank you, by the way.”

“For what?”

“For not snarking at me. For not mocking me when you saw the body...lots of things.”

“Don't thank me yet, I'll make up for it in the morning.”

“Yeah, well, that is tomorrow. Today is today.”

“Shut up, Elena.”

He felt her smile against his chest, but she didn't say anything. A few minutes later, he felt his eyes get heavy. He fell asleep.

~~~*~~*~~*~~~

 

He woke to the afternoon, with the feel of Elena's body wrapped around him. Arousal kicked in as she shifted against him and lifted her head to smile at him. Her hair fell around her face in loose waves; her hair straightener had been one of the things her brother had forgotten to bring to the lodge.

On impulse he kissed her, tangling a hand through her hair as he rolled them over on the bed. It was a long, languorous kiss, a full exploration of her mouth, and he felt her hands clutch at his back as she eased into it.

“Good morning,” she said, slightly dazedly, when he eventually released her mouth.

He smirked. “Good _afternoon_,” he said slyly.

Elena frowned. “Really?” She gave his shoulder a light shove. “Let me up, we shouldn't be doing this in the first place.”

He rolled off her with a laugh, and got to his feet. “I never made it to a silversmith, yesterday,” he said. “How about we catch one today?”

Elena cocked an eyebrow. “You mean that literally, don't you?”

“I promise not to try and eat him, if you don't,” Damon said.

“Ouch,” Elena said, but without any heat.

“I did warn you,” he said. “C'mon, get up. Lots to do, chop chop! You raid the fridge, while I make a few calls.”

A few minutes later, they were in the kitchen, Elena was warming her blood in the microwave as Damon rang all the local jewellers. The scene would have looked very domesticated, if you didn't look too closely at the menu. Eventually, Damon tracked down a jeweller who'd come and collect the stone and deliver the results – for an exorbitant fee.

Breakfast was interrupted by a phone call, and Damon looked at the strange number before answering it. “Salvatore's bar and grill,” he singsonged, smirking at Elena, across the table. “Sorry, we're all booked up right now, but-”

“_It's Alaric Saltzman_,” said a familiar voice.

Damon frowned. “How did you get my number?” he asked.

“_I have friends in low places_,” he said. “_And there's a body in Jenna's kitchen, and she's due home in about an hour.”_

“And this is my business because...?”

_“There's a note pinned to it's chest, and it says, 'Hello, Damon'._”

Damon went still. “Come again?”

“_You heard me._”

Damon's mind flitted through the possibilities. “Roll it up in something, stick it in your trunk and bring it here. Get Jeremy to help you, if you need any.”

“_Jeremy isn't here, he didn't come home last night._”

Damon closed his eyes; he guessed he was due another call to Anna. “Fine,” he bit out. “Do the best you can. Just get here!”

“_What? You can't take time out of your busy schedule to come over here and help?_”

“I'm kind of tied to the house, right now.”

There was a pause. “_How's Elena?”_

“Elena is...” He stopped as Elena's eyes met his across the table. “Never mind. Just get here.” He hung up.

It was another half an hour before they heard the rumble of a car outside. Damon went out and waved him into the garage, before lowering the doors, so Elena could come in the side entrance. Alaric popped open his boot, and got out of the car, eyeing Elena cautiously as she stepped into the garage. Elena gave him a small nod and a smile, and clutched at Damon's arm like a vice. Alaric pulled back the corner of the rug covering the body, and the three of them peered in.

“I can't believe that this is my life now,” Alaric said. “Anyone recognise him?”

Elena nodded. “It's Duke, she said.

Damon looked at her blankly.

“As in Duke from Duke?” she said.

Damon snorted.. “Why do I get the feeling I'm missing out on some nugget of local information.”

“You mean you don't know everything?” Elena teased. “What a shock. How will I ever recover?”

“You think you're so witty, don't you?”

Elena tossed her head. “I have my moments.”

Alaric rolled his eyes. “Can we keep on topic here?” he said, as he pulled a sheet of paper out of his pocket. Damon took it out of his fingers and opened it.

“Do you recognise the writing?” he asked.

Alaric nodded tersely. “Yeah, I do,” he said, “It's Isobel's.” Silence fell in the garage, and Elena's grip became even tighter.

“Great, just great,” Damon eventually said, as he turned the corpse's head, and examined its neck. It was a mangled mess. “That's all we need.” he turned to Elena. “You do realise it was probably your Uncle John who brought the body into the house – or worse, invited her in.”

“Would he be able to do that?” Alaric asked. “He's not a member of the immediate family.”

“He's a Gilbert, and they've been living in that house for a couple of generations – it's enough of a tie. We'll need to end that.”

“Damon...” Elena said softly.

He rolled his eyes. “You're doing that thing, again.”

“What thing?”

“That little pout you do, with the judgey eyes.”

“I did no such thing!”

“Oh yes you did.”

Alaric sighed. “You know what would be nice? If you two could stop acting like an old married couple for just five seconds, and help me with this dead body?”

As one, Damon and Elena glared at him, and Alaric took an unconscious step back. “Okaaay,” he drawled, spinning the word out. “Forget I said anything.”

Damon's cell began to ring, and he pulled it out. It was Sheriff Forbes, again; didn't the woman have any deputies? “Hello, Sheriff.”

“_Damon!_” the Sheriff said. “_Don't invite anyone into the house! I've just had a call from John Gilbert. Apparently, he's just got a tip that a Vampire would be hitting your place tonight – a newly turned one._” Damon's eyes flitted to Elena. Was it possible Gilbert knew about his niece?

“I don't understand,” he said aloud, “Why would it be hunting me?”

“_I guess news of your success at killing the last couple of Vampires that came to town must have spread_,” the Sheriff said. “_Don't worry, Gilbert is coming as backup. We should be okay._”

“Oh yes, I feel so much safer already,” Damon said.

The Sheriff laughed. “_He's a pain in the ass, but he's good in a sticky situation,_” she said. “_I'll see you in a few minutes._”

Damon hung up and looked at the corpse. “We need to move fast,” he said. “The Sheriff is going to be here any moment-” It was then that the corpse moved a hand, and Damon groaned as all the pieces clicked together. “I don't _believe _I didn't see this coming.”

Alaric pulled a stake from his pocket, and Damon stared at it. “Seriously? After the last time?” he asked.

“Especially after the last time,” Alaric said.

“We don't have time for this,” Elena said lowly.

Damon nodded, she was right. “He's still transitioning,” he said. “So Vervain won't work.” he pulled a rope from the garage wall, and hog tied the half unconscious would-be vampire. He looked around for something that would work as a gag. Silently, Alaric took off his scarf and handed it to him. Elena held Duke up, and Damon gagged his mouth.

“I'll stick him in the cell until I'm done with the Sheriff,” Damon said. “Elena, make yourself scarce. The last thing we need is for your uncle or the Sheriff to see you.”

Elena frowned at him. “Don't do anything stupid,” she warned.

“Who? Me?” he asked, grinning at her suspicious face. “Get gone, I'll behave.”

Alaric watched the exchange warily, but didn't open his mouth until she'd left. “What is the story with you two?” he asked, as Damon threw the trussed up Duke over his shoulder.

“No story,” Damon said abruptly. Alaric gave him a disbelieving look, but kept his peace as he followed Damon into the sub basement.

“Nice dungeon,” he said eventually.

“We try to keep up with the Addamses,” Damon drawled, as he threw Duke into the cell, and slammed the door shut.

Alaric raised an eyebrow. “Pop reference?”

Damon looked upward, as he heard the Sheriff's car pull up. “We need a reason as to why you're here,” he said.

“I'm here to discuss Stefan cutting classes,” Alaric said promptly, smirking as Damon threw him a look. “Teacher, remember?”

“Right. Teacher by day, Vampire hunter by night, must look impressive on the resume,” Damon said. The doorbell rang as they gained the hall, and Damon and Alaric looked at each other.

“I'd say good luck, but...”

“You'd be lying,” Damon finished for him, before opening the door. “Good evening, Sheriff, you know Mr Saltzman, I presume?”

Sheriff Forbes looked startled. “Uh, yes, the last parent teacher meeting, I believe.”.

“Mr Saltzman was sharing with me a few concerns he had about Stefan,” Damon ploughed on, as Gilbert's car pulled up in the driveway. He felt his hackles rise, but tried to keep it off his face.

“Well, I have to go,” Alaric says. “It's that way back to the garage?”

“Yeah,” Damon said. “And thanks for coming by. It's been very... educational.”

Sheriff Forbes raised an eyebrow as Alaric disappeared through a side door. “You made him use the garage?”

“It's part of the house,” Damon said smoothly.

Her face cleared. “Inside the threshold,” she said, nodding.

“Apparently the kids like him. It'd be a pity if he was killed for being at the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“Oh yes, heaven forbid he should run into a vampire,” Gilbert drawled, as he joined them at the door.

Damon's eyes narrowed. “Where do we start looking?” he asked.

Gilbert smiled nastily. “Oh, I don't know...how about the woods around the back?” he said.

Damon stepped out of the house, and closed the door behind him. He had a nasty feeling he couldn't quite shake, and the urge to rip out both their throats and be done with it, was almost overwhelming.

“Lead the way,” he said, through gritted teeth.


	12. Chapter 12

Walking through the woods, with John Gilbert and Sheriff Forbes in tow, was a lesson in frustration. There was no rhyme or reason to the path Gilbert led them on, and he found himself wondering what sort of game he was playing. Was he waiting for the sun to go down, so that Isobel could jump out and attack? Damon knew he didn't have all the pieces, and finding leverage to make Gilbert talk was proving difficult. He could kill him, but he couldn't make him spill.

“It's up this way,” Gilbert said, as he twisted down yet another track, and Damon suddenly realised where they were going. “There's nothing but an old ruin down there,” he said. “There's no shelter for a Vampire to use.”

“You seem very sure of that,” Gilbert said

Damon shrugged. “It's the original Salvatore house,” he said. “Of course, I'm sure; I used to play there as a kid.”

“Ah yes, I forgot that the Salvatores used to live down this way,” he said. “Why did they move again?”

”They didn't move, this branch of the family died out,” Damon said flatly. “Where did you get your _information _ again?” Gilbert smiled at him, and Damon fought the urge to smack the smug look off his face.

“I have a friend on the force, over at Grove Hill, who keeps his ears to ground,” he said.

Sheriff Forbes frowned. “We do seem to have gone off the beaten path, if we're looking for a Vampire that's hunting Damon,” she said.

A glimmer of something rose in Damon's mind. “Actually,” he said slowly, testing the waters. “It might be better to go back to the lodge, and let the Vampire come to us. If it _is_ hunting me, it'll turn up there eventually.”

“Oh, I wouldn't worry about that,” Gilbert said. “It's not as if it could get into the house without an invite, after all.”

Damon's eyes narrowed. It was only for a moment, but he had seen something flash across Gilbert's face. He suddenly knew, with absolute certainty, that he needed to get back to the lodge as quickly as possible. "I'm not the only one who lives there,” he said aloud. “And Stefan doesn't know about this.”

A worried expression flickered on Sheriff Forbes face, and she came to a stop. “Damon is right, we should go back.”

“Not yet,” Gilbert said, “I think I see something through the trees.”

They stumbled into the clearance that once held his father's house, and Damon felt something inside him twist as he realised that there _was_ someone at the ruins.

It was Stefan.

His eyes glittered as they turned on Gilbert and the Sheriff, and Damon remembered that time, when he was eight, when he'd stepped on a rattlesnake. Strangely enough, it was a kind of relief; they'd kill the Sheriff, Gilbert, and then the town council, and then they'd leave town and take Elena with them. Simple, clean and effective.

And Elena would never speak to him again.

Damon sighed, he was beginning to think Anna may have a point. Elena's opinion had somehow managed to become important to him. “Stefan,” he said aloud. “Don't tell me this is where you come to, when you cut class? Shouldn't there be girls and drugs involved?”

Sheriff Forbes, picking up his lead, stepped up. “You'd better head home, these ruins are a hazard,” she said. Gilbert stayed uncharacteristically silent, but Damon was okay with that. The less he said, the better.

Stefan looked at him, eyes hooded, expression blank. He'd been snacking since yesterday, oh joy. “Why don't you come home with me, Stefan?” he said. “We'll get you something to eat, and then we'll..._talk_...”

Once again, an uncomfortable expression crossed Gilbert's face, and something must have permeated Stefan's blood haze, because a part of his old self suddenly appeared in his eyes.

“Yes, that might be a good idea,” he said, getting to his feet.

“Maybe we should walk back with you,” the Sheriff suggested. “After what we've just discussed...?”

“No!” Gilbert said suddenly. “We need to track down this-”

“Nah, uh,” Damon interrupted, with a smirk. “Not in front of the kids, remember?”

The Sheriff nodded. “I think we should walk back with you, just in case you were right...earlier.”

Damon pulled a face, but didn't contradict her. Stefan rose, and his eyes, flickering between Gilbert and the Sheriff, were too dark. Damon knew he was moments away from losing it...

Actually, I think I'll continue on looking,” Gilbert said, and Damon saw Stefan relax.

“Are you sure, John?” the Sheriff asked, troubled.

“Relax, Elizabeth, I know how to take care of myself. Don't worry about me.”

Damon eyed him as he walked off, wondering what he was planning. He obviously had no qualms about letting the Sheriff wander off alone with two pissed off Vampires, so regard for human life wasn't exactly high on his list. A thing to remember, in the days to come. He had a funny feeling things were about to get very messy.

“I never really understood him,” the Sheriff said, contemplatively.

“It's what he wants to do,” Damon said.

“What's wrong?” Stefan asked, out of the blue.

The Sheriff turned to look at him. “Just another wild anima-” And then she stopped, her eyes dilating as she looked into Stefan's. “We're hunting Vampires,” she said, starkly.

Stefan tilted his head at her, before looking at Damon. “I thought she took Vervain?” he said.

“I've been diluting it,” Damon said. “But not to this degree, she looks fully under.” He glanced back at the spot Gilbert had just vacated. “And I have a funny feeling I know why.” He grabbed the Sheriff by the shoulders and turned her to look at him.

 

“_Walk straight to your car and go home,_” he said. “_Remember everything as it happened, up to the point Gilbert left, and then you'll remember bringing us back to the lodge and then leaving for home, once we'd decided there were no Vampires in the vicinity – understood?"_

“Understood,” she said softly, before turning on her heel, and walking towards the lodge.

Damon grabbed Stefan's arm, pulling his attention from the Sheriff's neck. “Elena's in danger,” he said, using the only words he knew would pull Stefan out of his haze.

Sure enough, Stefan's head swivelled to look at him. “How?”

“Don't know, but I think it has to do with Isobel-”

No more words were needed, Stefan was already a blur.

~~~*~~*~~*~~~

Elena waited until she could not hear the Sheriff's or Uncle John's footsteps anymore, before she crept downstairs again, her diary and her phone clutched in her hands. She'd never heard Damon's footsteps, even with her Vampire hearing, and she wondered how the Sheriff had never noticed that, as they traipsed through the woods.

She sat on the couch, in front of the dimming fire, and quickly dialled Jeremy's number. She'd let it slip out of her mind, earlier, but she needed to know if he was okay.

“_Elena?_” said Jeremy's voice. There was a live orchestra in the background, and people talking, but Elena ignored it, in favour of hearing the one thing she'd hoped for.

“Jeremy, you're alright!” she said, relief flooding though her.

“_Yeah, no thanks to your boyfriend_,” Jeremy snorted.

“Jer, don't be too harsh on Stefan, he's not himself at the moment. It's been so long since he's tasted human blood, that it's making him act out of character.”

“_I don't owe Stefan anything, Elena_,” Jeremy said. “_And if he was such a loyal boyfriend, why the hell was he trawling the The Grill last night?_”

Elena felt something inside her cringe, despite her knowing the truth. “He wasn't looking for a date, Jer, he was looking for a meal.”

“_Oh, well, that makes **all **the difference.”_

“Where are you?” Elena asked, hoping to change the subject. “I can hear music.”

_”Oh, right,”_ Jeremy said, his voice suddenly embarrassed._ “I'm at the Mansion. The Miss Mystic Falls competition is on later, and Jenna has apparently volunteered our services as an apology for your disappearing act.”_

Elena winced. “Sorry.”

For a moment, Jeremy fell silent.“_It's me that should be saying sorry, sis, not you_,” he eventually said.

“Jer, don't, it's as much my fault as yours. I shouldn't have jumped in front of that stake-”

“_Elena, it's nice of you to try and share the blame, but I think we both know this is all on me.”_

Elena bit her lip. “But it isn't, you know,” she admitted. “_I_ was the one who asked Damon to erase your memories, _I _ was the one who decided that you shouldn't have the truth. It was wrong, it was stupid, and it was _selfish. _I couldn't stand seeing you in such pain again. The first time, after Mom and Dad died, almost killed me.”

Jeremy sighed on the other end of the phone, and then lowered his voice. “_You didn't deserve to die, Elena._”

“It'll be okay, Jer,” Elena said, not knowing what else to say.

“_But it'll never be the same,_” Jeremy said. _And that's all my fault.”_

An engine purred past the parlour's window, and Elena kept an ear out as she looked at the clock. The jeweller wasn't supposed to arrive until six, but it was possible he was early. “Jer,” she said, as she blurred into the hallway. “You can't blame yourself for this. These are our lives now, we'll just have to muddle through.” There was a rap on a door, and Elena listened intently. It wasn't coming from the front door, but the garage... Shit.

“Jer, I'm going to have to hang up now,” she said. “I think I may have company.”

_“Elena, wait-”_

She hit the red button, and went down the hallway. A heartbeat came from the garage, and Elena may have not been a Vampire for long, but she could tell it was not human. It was too steady, _too_ normal. The door boomed with the knock of an iron fist, and Elena found her suspicions come true when the door's frame splintered, and the door itself flew free from its hinges. The Vampire stalked inside, and Elena felt her mouth go dry when she recognised him.

It was the man who'd stepped in front of the car after delivering Isobel's message – except he wasn't human anymore. Isobel must have given him some of her blood before he died.

“I want the watch,” he said.

Elena didn't have to think about what he was talking about. He wanted the pocket watch the original John Gilbert had made.

“I don't know where it is,” she lied.

“I don't believe you,” he said.

“I don't care,” Elena stated. “Now get out of my home before I make you.”

He smirked. “I'd like to see you_try_,” he said, menacingly.

Elena ran, streaking across the house as fast as she could. He chased after her, and she could taste his adrenaline in the air as he, no doubt, tasted her fear – but that was no bad thing, because it masked the fact that she was running_ towards _ something, rather than away.

She reached the desk moments before him, and grasped the object taped under its roll cover. He grabbed her by the shoulders, and ripped her around.

“Give it to me!” he said, and then his eyes widened, as Elena slammed the Vervain dart into his side.

“You didn't really think I'd lead you to the watch, did you?” Elena asked softly, as he fell to the ground.

The front doors burst open, and Elena looked up to see both of the Salvatore brothers standing there, taking in the scene.

Damon smirked. “Our cell is going to get rather cramped, don't you think?”

Stefan gave them both a rather confused look. “What the_ hell _has been happening here?” he asked.


	13. Chapter 13

Stefan was back, Stefan was here.

And Elena didn't know how she felt about that.

“We'll get him downstairs, before we move onto Chuckles.” Damon said crisply, ignoring the tense silence as he crossed the room. “I have a funny feeling we're running out of time.”

“His name is Duke, not Chuckles” Elena said, breaking out of her reverie.

Damon gave her a look, and Elena relented. “Well, okay, his name is not Duke, but it's what everyone calls him.” She bent down to grab the Vampire's shoulders, frowning as she realised its weight. “Why is he so heavy, the other body wasn't.”

“Vampires give a whole new meaning to the phrase dead weight,” Damon said.

“Ha, _ha_,” Elena said.

“The _other _body,” Stefan questioned suddenly. “What have you been up to, Damon?”

“Wait, what is that?” Damon asked, cupping his ear. “Elena, I think Stefan is about to say something profoundly_ ironic_.”

Suddenly uncomfortable, Elena looked away from Stefan. “Leave him alone, Damon,” she said quietly.

Damon rolled his eyes, but grabbed the Vampire and threw him over his shoulder. “If he twitches, stake him,” he said.

“Do we have a stake?” Elena asked.

“You know what I mean.”

Stefan's eyes glittered as they followed her across the room. She felt as if she were being stalked, and she didn't like the feeling. She quickened her step, to catch up with Damon.

“Isn't that the man Isobel sent, the one who stepped in front of the car, a few weeks back?” Stefan asked suddenly, his breath on her ear.

Elena stopped herself from jumping. “Yes,” she said, “He came looking for John Gilbert's pocket watch.”

“And that can't be good,” Damon called back. “In fact, that might be _very_ bad.”

Elena studied Stefan from the corner of her eye and wondered what he was thinking, as he stepped up beside her. Something inside her didn't recognise him any more; it was if he were now a stranger. Of course, maybe the stranger was really _her_. She was no longer the same accepting Elena.

Stefan sudenly stiffened and came to a halt, staring down the last flight of stairs. “There's a half turned vampire down here,” he said.

“Yeah, that would have been our first present from Isobel,” Damon said. “She's thoughtful like that, although I've always been rather partial to those fruit baskets with the cherries-”

“_Damon_,” Elena said.

Stefan closed in on Elena, and took her hand. “You've been feeding,” he said softly.

“Oh, don't you start,” Damon snarled. “I spent the best part of yesterday covering your snacking, so you don't get to say that. Just open the damned cell door for us.”

Elena looked from one brother to the other, and didn't know what to say. A week ago, she woul have known where she stood - right by Stefan's side. Now, however, the lines were blurred. “Now is not the time for this, Stefan,” she said quietly. “We'll talk later.”

She stepped forward and opened the cell for Damon. Propped up on the camp bed was Duke, his eyes drooping, but still awake. Damon dumped the Vampire at his feet, and Elena caught the flicker of recognition flash in Duke's eyes.

“He knows the Vampire,” she said aloud.

“There was any doubt?” Damon asked, as he grabbed Duke and pulled him from the cell.

“He's reaching the end of the transitional stage,” Stefan said quietly. “If he doesn't feed soon, he'll die.”

“Hear that, Duke?” Damon asked the gagged Duke amiably. “Definitely an incentive to talk, don't you think?”

Elena followed Damon and Duke into the supply room that housed the freezer, and watched as Damon swung up the lid. “See that?” he said. “That's your ticket to immortality. Tell me everything, and you get to live.” Damon grabbed a stool from the corner and sat Duke on it, before removing the gag.

“I can't say anything,” Duke said immediately, his voice cracking. “Isobel...Isobel...” his voice petered off as his head slumped. Elena could sense he was nearing the end.

Damon grabbed a bag of blood, and dragged up a chair and sat in front of him. “Yeah, I know, I get it; Isobel hears all and sees all. You fear her and, hey, maybe you even _love_ her a little,” Damon leaned forward and looked into his eyes. “But here's something you might not know, Duke. As far as Vampires go, Isobel isn't even a blip on the radar screen. She's barely two years turned and she's still living on that high, but while she may think she's Queen of the frigging Damned, compared to me or Stefan, she's small time and, may I point out, she's also not _here_.” He waggled the bagged blood in front of him. “So fess up and I'll let you feed, and then you can have all eternity to regret spilling your guts... or you can just stay here and die.”

Duke licked his parched lips, his eyes fixated on the bagged blood. “You promise me you'll let me go, afterwards?”

“Why wouldn't I?” Damon drawled. “You're nothing to me.”

Damon was lying, Elena knew that with absolute certainty, but she couldn't bring herself to call him on it. Isobel had left Duke in her home. Jenna and Jeremy wouldn't have stood a chance if he'd awoken before Alaric found him, and there was no guarantee Isobel wouldn't try this again.

She would do anything it took to keep her family safe.

Stefan prowled behind her silently, and Elena prayed he wouldn't say anything as the silence dragged on. The smell of blood in the air was already beginning to stir her hunger, and she could feel her control slipping again. She wondered if she'd ever learn to control it enough to not be afraid of it. Afraid of what she might do.

Duke coughed and looked up at her, his eyes suddenly unblinking. “She told me that all I had to do was wake up and let nature takes its course,” he said. “She said that you deserved it, and it was her right to take your life because she was the one who gave it to you in the first place, but...you're not human anymore, are you?”

“And you still haven't given me something we don't already know,” Damon said. “What else did Isobel say? What did she say about me?”

“The world doesn't revolve around you, Damon, it may have nothing to do with you,” Stefan said.

“There was a note pinned to his body when Alaric found him,” Elena said. “It said, _hello, Damon_.”

“Of course, how silly of me. What was I thinking?” Stefan muttered. “If there's a dead body involved, chances are Damon's name is involved in _some_ way.”

“My brother is such a kidder,” Damon said, his voice deceptively light. “Always with the witty banter.”

“Can we please not do this now?” Elena pleaded. “I need to know why Isobel wanted to kill my family. Why does she hate me so much?” She turned to Duke. “Did she tell you anything? What did she say? ”

“She said that you'd already know that; that you had something she wanted, and she was going to take it, one way or the other,” Duke said. His voice sounded parched, as if he'd not had a glass of water in days.

“This is not getting us anywhere,” Damon decided, flinging the bagged blood over his shoulder, and back into the deep freezer.

He got to his feet, and Duke's eyes widened in protest. “But you promised-”

Damon pulled Duke's gag back into place, and then slammed the freezer closed. “We need to finish this conversation upstairs,” he said coolly.

Stefan glared at him, but Elena nodded. “The jeweller will be here soon,” she offered as Damon locked the door behind them.

Damon nodded. “And something tells me he isn't the only visitor we're going to get,” he said.

Stefan waited until they were upstairs before he burst out, "That was bullshit, down there. You're not going to let him live. You don't even know if bagged blood is sufficient to turn someone.”

Damon looked at him as if he'd lost his mind. “Of course I'm not going to let him _live_,” he said. “He's seen Elena. He knows she's been _turned_. We can't risk Isobel finding out before we know what she's up to.”

“And what does Elena think about this?” Stefan said. “Have you thought to ask her?”

“She's right there, ask her _yourself_,” Damon barked.

“I think Damon is right,” Elena said quietly, and Stefan looked at her as if he'd never seen her before.

“You've changed,” he said flatly. “The Elena_ I_ know would never have gone along with this.”

Damon laughed mirthlessly. “Wow, then those were some dinky rose coloured glasses you were wearing, brother,” he mocked. “What did you think you were dating – a saint?

Elena glowered at Damon, who just smirked back, before turning to Stefan. “She dumped him in my home, Stefan, my _home_. If Jeremy or Jenna had found him before Alaric, they'd be dead...and I've lost too many people, Stefan, I can't lose any more. I'll do whatever it takes to keep them safe.”

“And that would be case closed,” Damon said. “So, are you in, or are you just going to run off again?”

Stefan frowned, but eventually nodded. “I'm in,” he said. “But don't think I won't try and stop you if I think you've gone too far.”

“Speaking of going too far,” Damon drawled. “You and I need to talk about your feeding habits.”

Stefan stiffened. “I admit I went off the rails a bit, for a couple of days, but I have it under control, again,” he said.

“_Sure_ you do,” Damon said, “And I raise bunnies for a living.” Stefan just stared at him silently, and Damon shrugged. “Whatever you say, brother,” he said. “But just so you know, the Sheriff has an eye out for a Vampire, and we're going to have to provide her with one – luckily, we seem to have a spare in the basement.”

Elena felt suddenly queasy; it was Lexi all over again.

Stefan must have been thinking the same thing because he abruptly made his way to the liquor cabinet, and poured himself a drink.

Damon just folded his arms. “Well, don't _I _feel judged,” he said. He turned to look at Elena. “You need to feed,” he observed.

Elena nodded wearily. When did she not?


	14. Chapter 14

Elena sat on the couch, and waited for Damon to return from the front door, where he was talking to the jeweller, who had arrived at last. Stefan was leaning against the fireplace, his hands in his pockets and his eyes studying the floor, and she was beginning to feel distinctly uncomfortable, and guilty, as her mind ran over recent events.

The truth was, she had gotten very close to Damon over the last few days and, until Stefan had arrived back, she had barely given him a fleeting thought. A week ago – hell, even three days ago – she would have thought that impossible. Stefan had practically filled every moment of her life...although, if she were honest with herself, Damon had been doing a very good job of shoring up the edges over the last few weeks, and what had started out as an uneasy truce, had become a sort of reluctant friendship. One that stumbled along a very rocky path, but it was there, nonetheless.

She also had a sneaking suspicion it was turning into something more.

“You can't trust him, Elena,” Stefan said quietly. “You must know that. He'll let you down.”

Elena looked at him sharply, wondering if it had been something on her face that had given her away. “And I can trust you?” she asked, suddenly angry.”Where were you when I needed you, Stefan? You ran out of this house and didn't look back. How can I trust you not to do the same again?”

“It wasn't like that,” Stefan said. “I was confused, and overwhelmed by the blood lust. I didn't mean to hurt you.”

“But you did, Stefan, you _did_”

”I swear, I leave you two kids alone for a minute, and it's all with the Drama,” Damon drawled, as strolled back into the room. Elena looked at Stefan, who just looked away.

“I guess we're finished,” she said harshly.

Stefan flinched but didn't say anything.

“As entertaining as I usually find this, you two really need to kiss and make up,” Damon said finally. “We all know you're going to, anyway. Treat it like...ripping off a band aid.”

Elena gave Damon a long look; the words were very Damon, but there was a rawness to them that she couldn't quite identify.

Stefan raised an eyebrow at Damon. “I'm curious,” he said. “Do you think I can't smell her scent on you?

Damon smirked. “I'm not sleeping with her, Stefan.”

“But you haven't been exactly platonic either, have you?” Stefan countered. Silence reigned in the room, as Stefan's eyes roamed from Damon to Elena. “That's what I thought,” he said.

“Christ, Stefan, what did you think would happen – it hasn't been that long since you've been turned. You know how it works,” Damon said. “It's not my fault you decided that Elena was too much of a precious snowflake as a human, that you couldn't stand to see her as a Vampire.”

“Damon,” Elena said quietly. “Stop it.”

Anger struggled on Damon's face. “Whatever,” he said. “The jeweller said that he'd have the stone set by tomorrow morning, so we should be good to go – literally, if needs be, and then-”

There was a loud insistent knock on the door, and Elena raised her head. It took her a few moments to recognise the scent. It was Anna.

“Stay here,” Damon said. “Stefan, check around the house. Make sure she didn't bring any friends.”

“I thought she said the others were gone,” Elena said.

Damon gave her mocking look. “Right, and she wouldn't _lie,_ of course.”

Stefan nodded, and blurred out of the house, and Damon dawdled on his way to the door. Elena listened as he opened the door.

“_Two visits in one week, I feel honoured...not,”_ he said, as he pulled open the door. “_So what..._” For a moment, there was silence, and then Damon's voice changed. “_What happened?_”

“_Mama is dead_,” Anna said, and even from where Elena sat, she sounded broken. “_Someone staked her. They got Harper, too. I need help, Damon. I want to find out who killed her_.”

Before she could stop herself, Elena stood up and called out. “Let her in, Damon.”

She heard Damon sigh. “_And here I was thinking we had enough going on without starting a pity party”_

“Damon!”

“_All right, all **right**_”

Anna looked as if she were walking on eggshells when she walked into the room. Not counting their aborted phone conversation, a couple of nights before, the last time they'd met, Anna had fed Elena's blood to Pearl in the tomb. Elena knew she should still be angry about that, but there was such a loss in Anna's eyes that Elena couldn't bring herself to feel it. It hadn't been that long since Elena had lost her own mother.

“There's nobody else, she came alone,” Stefan announced as he stalked back into the room.

“Pearl has been killed,” Damon said flatly.

Stefan stopped, mid stride. “How?”

“Oh, I have a pretty good idea,” Damon said.

“Uncle John,” Elena said. “That's what you're thinking, isn't it?”

“It makes sense,” Damon said. “He definitely was hot to find her.”

Elena shuddered. “We could be next,” she said.

“Not if I rip off his head first,” Damon said, turning to Anna. “He was here a few days ago, trying to track down something Pearl had taken from the original John Gilbert.”

Anna scowled. “And you told him where to find my mother?”

“Don't be an idiot. I wouldn't put him out, if he were on fire,” Damon said shortly. “He must have found out where she lived some other way – did he get it?”

“Get what?”

“Get whatever he killed your mother for,” Damon said.

Anna blinked. “If it is what I think it is, then no,” she admitted. “Mother kept it in a safety deposit box in town. She wasn't going to empty it until today.”

“Then you'd better go and get it,” Damon said.

“Isn't it safer where it is?” Elena asked.

“With Gilbert so cosy with the council?” Damon answered. “Do you really want to risk that? Your uncle is holding too much of the pack as it stands, we need to grab a few cards of our own – have I mentioned how very inconvenient it is, that he's related to you. Usually, I'd go after the family.”

“Oh, I'm so sorry I _ inconvenience _you,” Elena said sarcastically.

Damon scowled. “First things first; we need to get that ring off him. Hopefully, It'll make him feel a bit more vulnerable, and vulnerable people make mistakes – is there anyone here who doesn't think Uncle John is hip deep in it with Isobel?”

“Ring?” Anna enquired

“That big, ugly thing he wears on his finger. Makes him unkillable while he's wearing it,” Damon said.

“You sure about that?”

“Oh yes. I got the empirical evidence,” Damon said.

“I'll go with Anna to the bank,” Stefan volunteered, changing the subject. “If John is in the mood to kill Vampires, Anna might be next on his list.”

Damon gave him a hard look. “I don't have to tell you that stopping for lunch would be a bad idea, do I?”

“I know how to restrain myself, Damon,” Stefan said coldly.

“Now, where have I heard before?” asked Damon. “Hmm, wait, give me moment...”

Elena rolled her eyes. “Damon, stop being such an ass,” she said.

For the first time since she'd entered the room, Anna smirked. “Easy to see who wears the pants in _this_ house,” she said, as she helped herself to an easy chair. “But we still haven't discussed what we'll do after we collect the artefact. A plan would be nice. Not that snapping necks first and asking questions later doesn't have it's attractions, but I want to do more than stop John Gilbert – I want to make him _pay_.”

Elena bit her lip, conflicted. Uncle John wasn't her favourite person in the world, but he was still family. “Maybe we could get Jeremy to talk to him,” she said. “Uncle John is big into family, maybe Jer could reason with him.”

“No,” Anna said evenly.

Elena raise an eyebrow. “Excuse me?” she said.

“Jer has been through enough” Anna said.”He doesn't need to deal with this, too.”

Damon caught Elena's eyes, and waggled his eyebrows. Elena sighed, she knew what he was getting at. Anna hadn't rescued Jeremy for purely altruistic reasons the other night, there was definitely something going on between them. She risked a glance at Stefan. Did he know she knew about his attack on Jeremy?

And when had her life got this confusing?

“Yes,” she said aloud. “You're probably right. We'll leave him out of it.” She turned to Damon. “But I still think we need to make Uncle John talk. You should call him, tell him to come over. I want to see him.”

“Elena, are you sure about this?” Damon asked, sounding serious for once.

She nodded. “I know Uncle John, I know how he thinks,” she said. “And I heard what he said to you the other day – so, you see, I know you're wrong about one thing. We _can_ make him talk, because while Uncle John may not be afraid of dying, he _is_ terrified of being turned.”

Damon stared at her. “Shit,” he said. “You may be right.”

“Oh, he's a hater all right,” Anna muttered. “The idea of being turned probably terrifies him.”

“You realise that once he knows you 're a Vampire, we're going to have to keep him here until we've figured out what he and Isobel want – that, or we turn him, or kill him.”

Elena sighed again. “I guess we'll have to deal with that when the time comes. Make the call.”

Damon took out his phone, nodding at Anna and Stefan. “You two get going to the bank,” he said. “We'll keep him occupied until you get back.”

“We shouldn't be long,” Anna said. “It won't take much to compel the bank's night security.”  
Stefan looked suddenly reluctant, but retrieved his coat. At the door, he hesitated. “I can stay,” he said to Elena. “If you want me to.”

Elena looked at him. “No, you go with Anna,” she said.

Stefan looked over her shoulder, and Elena could hear Damon move behind her. She silently prayed he wouldn't say something and, for once, her prayers were answered.

“Right,” Stefan eventually said. “I'll see you later.” The door closed behind him, and Elena turned to Damon, who still had the phone open in his hand.

“You understand this is going to be messy, right?” he asked.

She nodded silently.

“Do you trust me, Elena,” he asked suddenly.

She caught his eyes, ignoring the thrill of attraction that ran though her as they bored into her. She couldn't afford to be distracted right now. She was about to threaten her uncle's life. “I haven't made up my mind yet,” she said. “Is that a problem?”

He gave her a grim smile. “I guess I haven't made up _my_ mind, either,” he said. “What's the number?”

She gave it to him.


	15. Chapter 15

John Gilbert was a dick.

This was a point driven home to Damon about five point three seconds into their phone conversation.

“_Why would I want to see Elena?_” Gilbert asked.

“Is that a rhetorical question?” Damon asked. “Because I'm not feeling the family love here.”

“_I know she's seeing Stefan, Damon_,” he said. “_She's in that house of her own volition_.”

“But here's the thing, Gilbert,” Damon said. “Stefan's not here, and I am, and you wouldn't like the things _I_ can do, of my own...volition.” There was along pause, and Damon could practically hear the cogs of his mind turning.

“_I'll be there in an hour,_” he eventually said.

“I'll get the best china out,” Damen replied, before snapping the phone closed. He looked at Elena, his eyes taking in the tell tale tension in her shoulders and the flat line of her lips. “We need to get you fed,” he said. “Your uncle is going to come loaded for bear.”

“I want to kill him,” she said simply.

“Yep, that would be the blood lust talking,” Damon said. “It's been a few hours.”

Her eyes darkened, her veins drawing shadows around her eyes. She bit her lip, a strange gesture with her fangs extended; Damon felt his own hunger rise in response. He grabbed her by the elbow and steered her towards the kitchen.

Damen grabbed a bag of blood from the fridge and, after a moment's thought, grabbed a second one. He emptied them into a plastic jug and nuked them, one eye still on Elena as she stood at the other end of the counter, her hands gripping the edges of the marbled surface.

“You have to stop doing that, ignoring the hunger until it makes you pay attention,” he said, as he poured her a mug, and handed it to her.

“I just thought it could wait,” Elena said.

He waited until she gulped down the mug, and them poured her another. “Wait until when?” he asked softly, as her feeding slowed. “Until Stefan was out of the house?”

She gave him a stubborn look. “Leave it alone, Damon,” she said.

“Oh, I wish I could,” Damon said. “Believe me, the last thing I want to do is pick over the remains of your relationship with Stefan.” She stiffened at that, but Damon ignored it and closed the gap between them.”You can't allow Stefan's hang ups dictate your feeding habits, Elena. You don't have that luxury, you're too new.”

Her cheeks were now flushed with the warmed blood, but one lust had only been replaced by another. “Do you think I don't know what you're doing?” she said, her eyes drooping as he breathed her in.

He smirked. “You're a smart girl,” he said, as his fingers crept under her camisole, his thumb stroking the dip between hip and belly. He nudged her against the kitchen counter and bent for a kiss. Blood still clung to the corners of her mouth, and he could feel his own hunger rise as she leaned into him, her hands suddenly clinging to the front of his shirt. He dipped his head further and traced his lips against her neck, following her pulse point.

“Another lesson, Damon?” Elena asked hoarsely, shifting against him.

He smiled against her skin. “Of a sort,” he agreed, and then he bit down.

“Damon!” She arched against him involuntarily, her hands turning into claws, and then Damon felt her relax against him as he sipped. A moan escaped her lips, and Damon grinned as he retracted his fangs.

“That would be the missing part of the equation,” he teased, as he ran his tongue over the puncture marks. They healed almost instantaneously. “The urge to bite and fuck become... confused, and the pain and pleasure centres entangle and turn into one big burning urge to do something, do _anything_ to release it.”

She pushed against him. “You let me feed on you, the night I turned,” she said accusingly. “You _never_ said.”

“What, wasn't it good for you too?”

She blushed. “That isn't the point,” she said. “You should have told me.”

“You were self conscious enough,” Damon murmured. He let his hand brush down her arm, and watched her shiver. Maybe he _was_ taking advantage of the situation, but who wouldn't? A turned Elena was turning into a sweeter prospect than he'd ever imagined, and he fully expected to have a taste.

The problem was keeping her afterwards.

He moved in for another kiss; this one hard and fast, and he felt her fangs extend under the bruising pressure. His shirt ripped, and her fingers dug into the line of his spine, as he lifted her onto the counter. It wasn't exactly how he'd envisaged their first time, but he wasn't complaining-

BANG! BANG!

Several of patio door glass panes shattered, sending flying glass across the room, but it was the wooden bullets that tore holes into Damon's back that cause him to cry out. He slid to his knees, dragging Elena with him, below the counter of the kitchen aisle

“Damon?” she asked, panicked, as more bullets pierced the air, smashing into the walls and cabinets.

“Wooden bullets,” he gasped. “Three in my back – you'll have to pull them out.” His blood slicked the polished floor beneath them, Elena nodded, turning him over.

“There is only one shooter, but two heartbeats” she said, as she dug the first bullet out. The pain screamed through him, but he held it back. He didn't have time for pain.

“One of them is a Vampire,” he said, once he got his breath back. “Better move quick.” She nodded, and dug a second one out. This time he couldn't help himself, a groan slipped out.

“Damon?”

“Keep _going_.” Another hail of bullets punctuated his words, and Elena hunkered over him, as she got the last one out. He pulled her to his chest, an then rolled them over until he was on top. We're going to make our move first,” he hissed into her ear, as another cluster of fire broke the panes in the china cabinet and covered his words. “I'll take the Vampire. You'll take the human. Do _not_ hesitate.”

She nodded her understanding, and Damon rolled off her, blurring for the door. He flashed across the den, and out through the other doors. He didn't want to leave Elena alone for longer than was necessary. He spotted a dark shadow moving silently across the lawn. He hadn't mentioned it to Elena, but he'd recognised this Vampire's scent. He should, after all, he was the one who turned her.

He slammed into Isobel at full speed, sending her flying through the air, and into the side of the house. She hit brick, somewhere between the first and second floor. He heard running feet behind him, and ducked as bullets fizzed over his head, smattering the side of the house. He heard Isobel cry out...oops.

Another cry filled the air. This time, it came from John Gilbert. He turned to see him fall onto his knees, as Elena's held him in a stranglehold from behind, her fangs embedded in his neck. Ah well, it's not as if it would kill him. They'd save that for later.

He heard the tread of feet behind him, and turned swiftly, only to see Isobel had disappeared. Damon let out a growl of frustration, and Elena raised her head, her mouth stained with Gilbert's blood.

“What happened?” she asked, her eyes clearing.

“What, indeed,” Stefan's voice interrupted coolly.

“Ah, brother, late to the party, as always,” Damon drawled. At least now he knew why Isobel had ran. She hadn't liked the odds.

“Isn't that Gilbert?” Anna asked abruptly as she joined them on the lawn.

“Don't worry, he won't _stay_ dead,” Damon said.

Elena got to her feet, letting Gilbert's body slip onto the grass. “Are you okay?” she asked.

“Hungry,” Damon said succinctly. “But I'll live.”

“How long will it take him to wake up,” Anna asked, giving Gilbert's corpse a kick.

“Not long enough for my tastes,” Damon said. Gilbert's fingers twitched, and they all stared down at him.

“I get first dibs,” Anna pronounced, as her fangs extended.

“By all means, help yourself,” Damon said, as he grabbed Elena's hand. “Just leave the ring on, so we can question him afterwards.” He headed for the house.

“Where are you going?” Stefan called after him.

“Didn't you hear me the first time? Hungry,” Damon said shortly.

“And what about Elena? Is she hungry too?”

Damon looked over his shoulder, and smiled coldly. “Later, brother.”


	16. Chapter 16

Damon's face was a grim mask as he tugged her through the house, his hand holding hers in an iron grip, as if he were afraid she'd pull away. He was hungry, that was the one thing Elena was really sure of; it occurred to her she'd never seen Damon _needing_ blood before. She had seen him feeding, yes, but she had never seen him like...this.

Elena, on the other hand, felt full and content. Feeding from a living, breathing human being always made her feel like that; it was like eating a gourmet meal, after a week subsisting on lean cuisines. Hmm, probably not the best analogy, and she didn't like to think about it too much. Dwelling on it tended to make her crave it. Damon stepped over the debris in the kitchen as if it weren't there, and raided the fridge.

“Damon-” she began.

“Isobel is here,” he said, before she could get anymore out. “That was her outside."

Elena looked at him, stunned. “What?”

“Yeah, that was pretty much my reaction,” Damon said, “Except there were more four letter words involved.” He didn't bother with the microwave, but just tore the bag open and tilted his head back. She watched the line of his throat as he swallowed, the tension in his body easing. Gently, she extricated her hand from his and went to the fridge to get him another one. Damon watched as she pierced it and put it in the microwave, and rinsed out the cup he'd given her earlier.

“You haven't said anything, yet,” he eventually muttered.

“What is there to say?” she asked. “My boyfriend can barely look at me any more, I just drained my uncle dry, and my biological mother just tried to kill me.” She shrugged. “Nothing I can do about it.”

He looked at her. “You're closing it off,” he said eventually. “Careful, Elena, you may regret doing that.”

“I don't want to talk about it.”

“And you don't want to feel it, either,” he said softly. “I know this story, Elena, hell I've lived it.”

Elena didn't want to touch the subject of Katherine with a barge pole, so she veered away from it. “So your mother tried to kill you too?” she asked coolly.

Damon gave her a lopsided smirk. “Father, actually - rifle, small bore.”

“_Very_ funny,” she snorted, and then stopped for a moment, as she saw an infinitesimal flinch cross his face. “Oh my God, you're _serious_.”

“He disapproved of my choice of lovers.” he smirked. “Guess we have _that_ in common too.”

Elena studied his face, knowing there was something he was leaving out. “What happened?” she asked.

“He succeeded,” Damon said, with a shrug. “I still had Katherine's blood in my system, so...”

The cup in Elena's hand shattered as her grip contracted. She looked down at it, stunned, as Damon carefully pried her fingers loose. The ceramic shards fell to the floor, and he lifted her hand to his mouth and cleaned the healing cuts on her palm, his eyes fluttering closed. Lust and anticipation flared as she felt the coarse pressure of his tongue slide against her pulse point, and she held her breath as she waited for him bite down.

It didn't happen.

With a small smile, he released her hand as the microwave dinged, and disappointment flooded through her as he reached behind her to pop the door open. “My turn,” he said, as he took the donor's bag and then her healed hand, and led them both upstairs.

~~~*~~***~~*~~~

Damon knew she was hurting, just like he knew that the little switch she'd flipped inside her made it oh-so-easy for her to forget or ignore the pain; but he had discovered, over the years, that although one could forget pain,and sorrow, and even love, sometimes the gentler, less dramatic moments crept into your heart without you knowing it. Moments of kindness and trust, and shared smiles.

He should know, after all, it was how Elena had crept into his life.

They reached his bedroom, and he tugged off the remains of his shirt and binned it. Her eyes were wide as they followed him across the room, watching silently as he downed the second bag.

“I need a shower,” he said abruptly. “So do you. I won't be long.”

He stalked into the bathroom, and closed the door behind him, wondering what the hell he was thinking? It was one thing to have a little fun with her heightened desires and urges, it was another thing to watch her slowly go into full Vamp mode.

He shook his head as he peeled off his bloodied jeans, and turned on the shower. The water began to steam as he stepped in, and he let the piping hot water course over him, as he tried to put Elena out of his mind and concentrate on his more life threatening issues, namely John and Isobel.

“You said it was your turn.”

Damon turned to see Elena slide the shower door open, and step in beside him. He watched as the water sleeked back her curling hair and rivuleted cleanly through the dried blood on her skin. Her hand reached out tentatively, brushing his stomach, and Damon felt something inside himself give as she rose onto her toes and pressed a warm, open mouthed kiss onto his collarbone, and then onto the curve of his neck. He may be a Vampire, but sometimes he was only human.

He pulled her close, binding his hands in her hair as he kissed her hard, before he pressed her against the cool tile of the shower. He felt her legs wrap around his waist as he lifted her against him, her hands tugging his head to one side. In a flash, he knew what she needed, and was almost relieved as he bared his throat. _This _ he understood.

She dove for his neck, her fangs slicing into him, and he shuddered against her. Pain and pleasure swarmed through him as he cradled her, keeping them under the spray of water as she fed. The last thing she needed was for Stefan to overhear them. He bit his lip as she started to unconsciously grind against him, it would be so easy just to fuck her against the shower wall right now; she was wet, he could smell her...

Her teeth sank deeper, and Damon tried not to let his legs buckle. “Elena,” he whispered hoarsely. “Elena, I need you to...” But it was too late, he felt his groin clench, and he buried his face in her hair as he felt the ecstasy burn through him. He climaxed, spilling himself along her skin and thighs. The water washed it away slowly, as Elena released him, her head falling limply back onto the tiles.

It took him a moment to realise that there were tears as well as water running down her face.

“No matter what I do, there's no way to fix this, is there?” she asked. “I'm never going to be human enough for _any_ of them; Stefan, Uncle John...Bonnie.”

He released her carefully, letting her legs fall to the floor. “Not everyone will feel like that,” he reminded her quietly. “Your brother, for one.”

“And what about you?” she asked, almost shyly.

He smirked. “Elena, if you haven't figured that out yet, then you're not as bright as I thought you were.”

She punched him in the shoulder. “Jerk.”

“Oh, you wound me,” Damon drawled.“How will I ever survive - especially as this hot, Vampire chick I know keeps accosting me,and drinking all my blood – so weak, so _weak_!”

The glare was back, swiftly replacing the tears. “I did not _accost_ you!” she said. “I just...joined you.”

“Ah, so _that's_ what they're calling it nowadays.” His grin grew wide, and he ducked out of the way as she gave him a half hearted swipe. He backed out into the bedroom and stiffened immediately as the scent hit him. Elena staggered to a halt as she followed him into the room, her eyes fixed in the bed behind him.

“Stefan,” she breathed.

Damon slowly turned to see Stefan propped up on his bed, his hands folded on his lap.

“I think it is time one of us left,” Stefan said quietly to Damon.

Damon looked at him coolly. “Well it's not going to be me, brother,” he said.

“We'll see about that,” Stefan said, rising from the bed. “But, in the meantime, we have other things to attend to - John's awake. He wants to talk to you.”


	17. Chapter 17

Damon knew he should have left Mystic Falls the moment he'd found out about Katherine’s betrayal. His growing attachment to his life here was a puzzle to him. A very small but irritating puzzle that kept buzzing around his head, clamouring for attention. Too loud for him to ignore, but too insidious to swat away.

There was nothing left for him here, and yet Damon still found himself wanting...well, he knew there was one thing he _didn't_ want, and that was to see Elena's face crumple like it did a few minutes ago, under the force of Stefan's disapproval.

He would have to do something about that.

Her back was stiff as she walked ahead of him down the stairs. Her hair was still damp and tied back in a loose coil, and she was wearing a pair of jeans and one of his shirts. Damon smiled at that. Elena hadn't been a Vampire long enough to realise the statement she was making, but it definitely would get up Stefan's nose – literally.

Anna was waiting for them in the den. “You _do_ know you have a dead body stinking up your basement?” she asked.

“Ah yes, that would have been Duke from Duke,” Damon returned. “A real charmer; another one of Isobel’s gift. You should check the treat she left for us behind door B - newly turned Vampire, who doesn’t know how to knock properly.”

“How very...special,” Anna drawled. “What exactly did you do to attract her attentions?”

“Cliff notes? Slept with her, killed her, turned her, let her go,” he shrugged. “I guess I must have made an impression.”

“Oh, I'm sure you did.” Anna said, eyeing Elena. “She’s your biological mother, isn’t she?”

“She’s not the maternal type,” Elena said flatly.

“Still, it's interesting,” Anna said. “All these connections...too much of a coincidence, don't you think?”

“You see? That's what _I've_ been saying,” Damon said, looking around. “Where's Stefan?”

Anna shrugged. “He's downstairs with John. He wanted to have a stab at playing good cop,” she said.

“Yeah... something tells me John Gilbert isn't the type to fall for that routine,” Damon said.

Elena snorted. “The man is an insufferable ass,” she said. “When we were kids, Jeremy and I would always try to stay at friends when he visited.”

“He killed my mother, that's all I need to know,” Anna said shortly. “Although this tag team act with Isobel has me more than slightly worried – which reminds me.” She pulled a small cloth bag out of her jacket pocket. “This is it. This is what he wanted.”

Interested, Damon blurred down the last few steps, and stared at the small, round and ornate object in her hand. He frowned as he took it from her offered hand and examined it. “What is it?” he asked,_ and why did it seem so familiar,_ he added silently.

“Search me,” Anna said. “Momma took it from the original John Gilbert, thinking it was device for tracking Vampires.”

“That was a pocket watch.”

“Yeah, Momma found_ that_ out the hard way,” Anna said dryly.

Damon pulled a face “Guess we'll have to go straight to the source, then-” The doorbell rang, and Damon cocked his head. Two heartbeats, one slow and too steady, the other one loud and panicked... and very familiar.

“It's Jeremy,” Anna and Elena said, as one.

“It's leverage,” Damon said flatly. Both women scowled at him, and Damon sighed. “I'm just saying, that's all. Isobel didn't bring him here for the good of his health. She'll want an exchange.”

“If we can hear her, she can hear us,” Elena said, as she blurred to the door. Damon threw Anna a look, and she sighed.

“I'll apprise Stefan of the situation. Try to keep the bloodshed to a minimum, will you?” she said, before adding. “And just so you'll know, if anything happens to Jeremy, I'll take it very personally.”

“Duly noted,” Damon said, as he threw himself onto the couch. It never did to look too eager in situations like this.

Elena stepped into the den, her lips a thin line, her entire frame fraught with tension. Behind her, walked Isobel, holding Jeremy Gilbert by the neck. The expression on his face seemed both angry and resigned.

“Back so soon?” Damon asked. “I though we covered everything the last trip.”

Isobel's lips stretched into a simulacrum of a smile. “But we didn't have time to catch up,” she said lightly. “What with you being too busy slamming me into the side of the building.”

Damon shrugged, plastering an equally fake smile on his face as he stood. “I see you've met your daughter?” he asked. The smile slipped a little, and underneath Damon caught a glimpse of pure rage. Interesting.

“What do you want?” Elena asked suddenly, folding her arms. She always did that when she was angry. He couldn't make up his mind if it was a defensive posture, or if she did it to stop herself from slapping the person...he was betting on the latter.

“I would have thought it was obvious,” she said. “Your brother for your uncle. A nice clean exchange.”

Damon raised an eyebrow. “Sorry, don't buy it,” he said. “Don't know why, really - maybe it has something to do with with the destroyed remains of my kitchen.”

“I'll write you a cheque,” she said.

Damon smirked. “Oh, you'll do a lot more than that,” he said.

“Not when I have little Jeremy here,” Isobel snapped back. “You see, when you and John failed to come to an arrangement yesterday, he called _me_. Needless to say, I was _very_ curious - Damon Salvatore turning down even the slightest whiff of a chance of finding Katherine? Could it be? Imagine my surprise when I got here, earlier, and heard Elena on the phone to Jeremy. At first, I thought she was Katherine, but then I realised it couldn't be, because I'd talked to Katherine last night-” Damon started, and Isobel smiled. “That's right, Damon, I know Katherine, and I'm not going to tell you where she is because – quite frankly – I _like _my head attached to my shoulders.”

Damon tilted his head and examined her. “Sorry, don't believe you,” he said. “Katherine would never harm Pearl. There's too much history there.”

“Are you sure about that?” Isobel asked archly. Damon glared at her, and she sighed. “Katherine didn't know; that was all John. What did you think he'd do, when you refused to help him? He came home to find his house crawling with old, invited Vampires, and he was desperate to get rid of you. That was his part of the deal with Katherine – and it looks like his fears were well founded.” She threw a significant look at Elena, and Jeremy let out a small wince. Isobel's head snapped around, and she looked at him through narrowed eyes. “Oh, don't worry, I already know your part in it .” she drawled. “I was listening in on your phone call, remember?”

Damon smirked. “You know, it's a strange thing,” he said. “But I still haven't heard a reason why I'd agree to this.

“Oh, Damon, don't play stupid. It's not a good look for you.” Isobel said flatly. “Let me break it down for you – Elena loves Jeremy, and you love Elena. Ipso facto, John for Jeremy.

Damon blinked; he could see Elena stiffen out of the corner of his eye, but he didn't have time for that. Right at this moment, he was wondering how Isobel was getting her intel. Because it sure as hell wasn't him. He smiled.

“So, what is the story between you and John?” he asked lightly.

“We dated when were in high school,” she said, with a shrug. “He was in love with me.”

“Oh, I'm sure he was,” Damon said quietly, as something inside clicked. Well, shit, that made things more complicated... He pulled out his phone and speed dialled Stefan, smiling as he watched Isobel cock her head and frown. The bedrock handily masked the sound of the phone as well.

“Stefan, bring him up,” he said, when the phone was answered.

“_By myself?_" Stefan asked. Damon knew what he was asking.

“Yup, definitely a one man job,” Damon said, hoping Anna would take the hint and stay put, as he snapped the phone shut.

 

Isobel laughed mockingly. “Ah, Love, it really does make you crazy...but I suppose you'd know all about that, wouldn't you, Damon? How long were you pining after Katherine, again? Over a hundred and forty years?”

“Rick sends his regards,” Damon shot back.

Her face darkened. “I left Alaric behind me a long time ago.”

“Oh, I think you protest a little bit too much,” Damon drawled, as he heard the shuffle of feet coming up the steps.

“Then you don't know me as well as you think you do,” she said.

“I hate to contradict you,” Damon said, spreading his hands to encompass the room. “But this – showing your hand so soon – wasn't a very bright idea, and yet you came here _anyway_. Makes me wonder if there aren't any other mortals out there that you care about; vulnerable mortals...ones _not_ wearing a ring.”

Stefan pushed John into the room. He looked decidedly worse for wear, and seemed extremely unhappy when he spotted Jeremy. Oops.

“That reminds me,” Damon said aloud, as he crossed the room and grabbed John's hand. “I think this ring is on the wrong Gilbert's hand.” he wrenched it off.

“I want the ring too,” Isobel said sharply.

“Really?” Damon asked innocently. “Okay, I guess I'll just take Rick's instead – that's okay with you, isn't it?”

For a moment, she froze; it was just a moment, but it told Damon all he needed to know. “Yeah, that's what I thought,” he said, as he pocketed the ring. “Let Jeremy go, or I'll rip out Uncle John's throat, and then I'll pay the school teacher a little visit.”

She let Jeremy go, and he stumbled. Elena hastily pushed him behind her. There was a smile on Isobel's face, but the rage shone in her eyes. She was angry - good, angry people made mistakes.

“This isn't over,” she said, as Damon pushed John into her arms.

“What, no goodbye kiss?” Damon taunted as he herded them to the door.

“Katherine never backs down,” she shot back.

“Oh, I know exactly what Katherine is,” Damon said. “The question is, do you?” He slammed the door in her face, and turned to look at Elena, Stefan and Jeremy. “Kitchen,” he said abruptly. “Does anyone here have Anna's number?” Tentatively, Jeremy lifted a hand, and Damon rolled his eyes. “Better give her a call, then,” he said. “Tell her to join us.”

“Council of war?” Stefan asked quietly, as Jeremy talked to Anna on the phone.

“We need to work fast,” Damon said, nodding. “She won't wait long to strike again – which reminds me...” he took out his phone and rang Alaric Saltzman. “Get your ass over here,” he said. “Your wife is in town, and you don't want her to find you first.”

“_What-_”

Damon hung up before he could get the rest of the question out. A curious Alaric was a quick Alaric.

Anna strutted into the room, her eyes immediately resting on Jeremy. “You did an exchange,” she said.

“You have a problem with that?” Damon asked, already knowing the answer.

She shrugged. “So what do we do next?”

“So it is a _we_, then?”

“Was there any doubt?”

Jeremy raised a tentative hand, and Damon quirked an eyebrow at him “Yeah?”

“Sorry, but I've gotta ask,” Jeremy said. “What the _hell_ happened to your kitchen?”

.


	18. Chapter 18

As war councils go, it left much to be desired.

Damon's eyes wandered over the motley crew, as they they swept off the shattered glass from the chairs around the kitchen table and sat. Stefan, normally the voice of reason and solid planning in these sort of situations, seemed too busy studying his hands to engage with the rest of them. Damon figured the problem was a toss up between the blood cravings and Elena. Either way, his brother wasn't exactly at the top of his game.

Anna sat beside Elena, perfecting her disaffected teen look, as she slouched in her chair and engaged in little sneaky smiles with Jeremy Gilbert._ He_ had elected not to sit down at a table with four vampires, and perched on the kitchen counter instead. Elena's kid brother was getting brighter by the second... although still not bright enough to lay off the older Vampire chicks.

Well, he could identify with that one.

Elena sat across the table from him, and her face had that tense look she always got when she was really upset. Damon couldn't help but notice the furtive looks she darted at Stefan, as if she was desperately trying to see inside his head. Damon tried to quash the jealousy he felt, but it wasn't happening. He needed a drink.

“So,” Anna said eventually. “Is somebody going to talk, or are we all going to sit here and remember the Alamo?”

“A little before before our time,” Stefan quietly.

“Speak for yourself,” Anna said.

Jeremy let out a snort of laughter. “Don't let Alaric hear you say that.”

A smile quirked the edge of Stefan's mouth. “I once caught him taking notes when we were talking.”

Damon groaned “Can we _try _ and stay on topic, please? People are trying to kill us.”

“People are _always_ trying to kill us,” Stefan said, giving Damon a significant look. “I wonder why that is.”

“Can we play the blame game some other time?” Elena said. “We need to come up with a plan to get rid of Isobel. The sooner, the better.”

Damon pulled a face. “I don't suppose we could just kill her?” he asked.

Elena gave him a long look.

“Fine,” he sighed. “Guess we'll have to go to plan B.”

”And what's that?” Anna said.

Damon smiled slyly. “We find out where she sleeps, and pay her a visit during daylight hours.”

“And how do you plan to find out where she's staying?” Stefan asked.

“Easy; we check the local realtors and find out which vacant properties are the most luxurious - and voila,” Damon pronounced.

“That sounds very familiar,” Stefan said.

“That's because it sound likes _me_,” Damon said.

“What did you do, give her a_ how to screw the neighbourhood_ guide, before you parted ways?” Stefan asked, sarcasm dripping off every word.

“Actually, she already had that part down pat before I met her,” Damon drawled, before catching the expression on Elena's face. Okay, maybe not the best choice of words.

“She has an invite into my home, Damon,” she said. “I don't find that funny.”

“That's because it isn't,” Damon admitted.

“She's not alone, either,” Jeremy piped up. “She had people with her; two of them. One was a guy, and one was a woman.”

“Did you get names?” Stefan asked.

“Sorry, she just kept calling them _cherie_,” Jeremy said.

Probably because their real names were too much of an effort to remember,” Stefan said dryly.

“Is there an internet connection in this mausoleum?” Anna asked suddenly.

Stefan nodded. “Laptop is in the den,” he said. “Why?”

“I checked out the realtors when I moved to town. There are only two locally, and properties are thin on the ground, especially at the high end. It wouldn't take much to make up a short list.”

“Sounds good,” Stefan said. Anna got up, and nodded incrementally at Jeremy; he silently slid off the counter and followed her.

Damon exchanged a look with his brother. “What do you think?” he asked. “Match made in heaven?”

“Only a matter of time,” Stefan answered quietly.

“Only a matter of time for what?” Elena asked sharply.

There was a silence at the table, before Stefan said. “They're close, Elena. It'll be only amount of time before she'll offer to turn him, if she hasn't already. It's inevitable.”

Elena gave him a searching look. “Really?” she said. “Because you didn't seem to think so _before_.”

“We were different,” Stefan said.

“Different?” Elena echoed. “You see, that's where you lose me. I didn't think we were that different at all.”

Damon growled under his breath. “Can we leave the relationship counselling until later?” he asked. “We have more important things to deal with.”

“What? Afraid you'll hear something you don't like, Damon,” Stefan said.

“Like_ that_ doesn't happen every moment I live in this house,” Damon grumbled. “It's getting late, and you can bet Isobel isn't resting on her laurels. You need to make a list, Elena. Name everyone that's important to you, with the addresses and phone numbers.”

“Why?” Elena asked, a worried frown crossing her face.

“Because that's where she'll strike,” Stefan said lowly. “Through the ones you love. She's already used Jeremy, it's only a matter of time before she moves onto the rest.”

“Jenna!” Elena exclaimed.

“The witch would probably be on the list, too,” Damon said. “Your BBFhood is well known in these parts – although Isobel may be taking on more that she can chew in that department.” Something niggled in the back of Damon's mind as he talked, but he couldn't pin it down.

“And Caroline!” Elena said her eyes widening. “And – oh god – she'll probably go after Matt too.”

“We could probably put Liz onto that,” Damon said. "I could say I got a tip about a new Vampire in town."

A flash of humour crossed Elena's eyes. “You and the Sheriff are on first name terms, now?” she asked.

Damon felt a flash of embarrassment, which he quickly quelled. “What can I say? She thinks I'm the town hero,” he drawled.

Elena's smile widened. “You _like_ her.”

“What? Is that a crime now?” Damon said defensively.

Elena's smile melted suddenly into a laugh, and Damon felt something inside him leap. It was the first time he'd heard her laugh out loud since she'd been turned. He smiled back.

Stefan sat back in his chair, his eyes taking in the both of them. “You think there's anything in what she said about Katherine?” he asked suddenly, and Elena's laugh stuttered to a halt.

Damon bit down on his anger, and gave Stefan a tight smile. “Talk about a buzz kill,” he said lightly.

“It's still a question we need to ask,” Stefan said.

“I don't see why,” Damon said. “If Katherine wants something from us, she knows where we are.”

“That's what I'm afraid of,” Stefan said.

Damon rolled his eyes. “The bitch has been avoiding us for over a century, so why would she suddenly be so keen to visit us. It doesn't make sense.” He paused. “Actually, it really _doesn't _make sense,” he repeated. “Why the sudden urge to get involved with the denizens of Mystic Falls again?” He sat up in his chair. “Or maybe it doesn't have anything to do with Mystic Falls...this all started when the tomb was opened again.” He stared at Stefan. “We're missing something here.”

“What was it you said to Bonnie?” Elena interjected quietly. “How Emily had been up to something when she tried to stop you opening the tomb, and it wasn't about saving the town.”

Damon pulled a face. “I doubt the witch was convinced,” he said. “Although Katherine pretty much told Emily everything. There might be something in her cookbook.” He stopped, as he mind flashed back to the Grimoire, a sketch he remembered from when he flicked through the pages... “Shit!” he said, taking out the pouch Anna had given him earlier, and dumping the small artefact out onto the table. “I _knew _ I'd seen this before – in Emily's Grimoire!”

“Are you sure?” Stefan asked.

“Positive,” Damon said.

“But why would one of John Gilbert's inventions be in Emily's Grimoire?” Elena said. “It doesn't make sense.”

“Maybe there's something in the Grimoire that explains it,” Stefan said.

“Good luck trying to get Bonnie to share, because that well is tapped dry, as far as I'm concerned,” Damon said.

“What did you do to her?” Stefan asked.

“Relax, I didn't touch a hair on her witchy little head,” Damon said. “But I'm sure you remember I'm not exactly her favourite person.”

“Maybe, iIf we explain...” Elena said.

Stefan grimaced. “I'll pay her visit,” he said. “If we explain there is a new Vampire in town, she might be more forthcoming."

Damon snorted. “I'd love to see _that_. How in control are you, again?”

“Enough to do this,” Stefan said sharply.

“And yet I find myself having problems believing you-” The doorbell rang, and Damon smirked. “And that'd be the the school teacher – you kids play nice, or I might have to report you.” He stood up, and left them at the table, blurring to the door. Alaric had his hand up to knock again when he opened it.

“Isobel is really in town?” he asked.

“I said she was, didn't I?”

“Right, and you've never used my undead wife as a ruse to to get your own way before,” he said dryly.

“Point taken,” Damon said. “But no, it's her.” He stepped back and waved him in. “Join the party.”

Warily, Alaric entered the house, eyeing Jeremy and Anna on the couch, crowded over the laptop. “Where's Elena?” he asked.

“In the kitchen, with Stefan,” Damon said abruptly.

“I see,” Alaric drawled. “Must be cosy around here at the moment.”

“Seriously?” Damon said. “Your Vampire wife comes to town, and you want to talk about Elena and Stefan? Is your life that boring?”

“I just think you left a name off that list,” Alaric said.

“Don't try to play that game with me,” Damon said. “I'm not in a good mood.”

“Yeah, I can see that from the pout.”

“As I was _saying_,” Damon said pointedly. “Your Vampire wife came to visit me, today. We had a fun time. She and John Gilbert tried to kill me, destroying my kitchen in the process, before I stopped her, and Elena made short work of her uncle. Isobel _then_ kidnapped Jeremy in order to get John back – and guess what? Once upon a time they were _close_.”

“And that list was in order of importance, I suppose,” Alaric said.

“Aren't you going to ask me the question?” he said, as he crossed the room to the drinks cabinet.

“Am I going to like the answer?”

“Probably not, but I thought in the interests of full disclosure, I'd offer it.”

Alraic rubbed his eyes. “Kill me now. It'd be easier.”

“I'd be happy to oblige, but you'd just pop back in a few minutes,” Damon said. He raised the bottle “Drink?”

“You've got to ask?”

“True,” Damon said, as he filled a second glass and handed to him. “They want to get their hands on one of John Gilbert's inventions – well, two actually. They want the pocket watch too, but I know what that does, and there's no way in hell I'm giving her _that_.”

“And the other invention?”

“Not a clue,” Damon said. "And I don't like being in the dark. Nasty things have a habit of leaping out of it.”

“Well, you'd know all about that,” Alaric said.

Damon gave him a long look. “The point is, I need to know where you stand, because the chances are she's going to go after someone else soon, and Jenna is on the list.”

Alaric gave him a sharp look. “What's _that_ suppose to mean?”

“I mean it's time to choose, Rick,” Damon said.

“What? Like _you've_ chosen?”

Damon gave him a humourless smile. “Don't try to analyse me. It won't end well.”

“Damon?”

He looked up to see Elena standing in the hallway leading to the kitchen, and his eyes narrowed as he tried to pick out Stefan's heartbeat. “He's gone?” he asked.

She nodded stiffly. “We need to talk,” she said quietly, her eyes dark and troubled.

“Oh, this is going to be fun,” Alaric said, under his breath.

Damon gave him a quelling look, before turning to Elena. “Upstairs,” he said.

"That might be best," she said.


	19. Chapter 19

_“And that'd be the the school teacher – you kids play nice, or I might have to report you.”_

Elena watched as Damon went to answer the door and left her alone with Stefan in the kitchen. She was almost tempted to follow him, as she wasn't sure if she was up to another round of recriminations. Every time Stefan looked at her, she felt something in her heart squeeze, as if seeing his face was almost too painful. She'd experienced grief before, so she recognised the symptoms.

Stefan covered her hand on the table, and it was all she could do to prevent herself from jumping. Something of this must have translated to her face, because he gave her a pained look. “Elena, I know the changes you're going through at the moment are difficult, but you do realise you have some hard choices ahead of you?” he asked softly.

“Stefan, I'm not sure this is the best time to have this conversation,” she said.

“Trust me, there's never a good time,” Stefan said. “The first few weeks of being a Vampire, are probably the most intense you'll ever experience. Every emotion you have, every base instinct, will burn through you like a fire.”

“Yes, I've already had this conversation with Damon – when you weren't here,” she said dryly.

He winced. “I deserve that.”

“Big of you to admit it.”

“Why is it that you let Damon make mistakes, but you won't let me?” he asked flatly.

“Oh, I don't know, maybe because Damon doesn't try to hold me to a higher standard than he keeps,” she bit back.

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“It means I'm not perfect, Stefan, I never have been, and this...this is _hard_, and no one should ever go through this alone - and that's what you did. You left me alone.” Her hand curled under his as she tried to tamp down on the emotion that rushed over her. It would be so easy just to switch it off...but Damon was right. If she started now, she might never stop. “We shouldn't do this now,” she said lowly. “I need to concentrate on protecting my family.”

“Elena-”

She glared at him “What?”

“I love you. You know that, don't you?”

And there they were, the magic words. Unshed tears blurred her vision, as she stared at the vulnerable expression on his face but, try as she might, she couldn't bring herself to return them. “You hurt me,” she said.

“It was one moment of weakness, Elena,” he said softly. “Don't throw away everything because I was weak.”

The pain in her chest swelled, almost leaving her breathless. “How can you live like this?” she asked hoarsely. “It hurts so much.”

His hand squeezed hers. “Most of us don't, Elena,” he said. “We turn it off.”

“Damon thinks I shouldn't do that.”

He hesitated. “Damon is right.”

“Huh,” Elena said. “Imagine that.”

He offered her a small smile. “I know I haven't been myself lately,” he said. “I haven't fed on human blood in so long...but I can go back onto animal blood, and you can do it with me. We can do it together.”

A sharp comment bubbled to her lips, but she swallowed it back. “I don't like feeling pressured,” she said.

“I don't mean to,” he said. “But the sooner you move onto an animal blood diet, the better. Human blood accentuates the trigger responses when you get hungry. Sooner or later, you're going to snap at the wrong moment and kill someone you care about – and you don't want that.”

Elena tensed as she remembered the stiffening corpse of Hillary Spenser, who had been her neighbour since she was eight, and was now buried in the woods behind the lodge. In that moment, she knew that there were some things she would never tell Stefan...another wedge between them.

Stefan was right, this wasn't who she wanted to be.

“Elena?” Stefan said softly.”Are you alright?”

“No,” she admitted. “No, I'm not.”

His hand tightened around hers again. “We can get through this. When this is over, we can leave town, just you and me. We'll make a new life for ourselves.”

_A life without Damon_. Elena's chest constricted at the thought; did she want that? She bit her lip. “I'm not sure if I can leave Damon behind,” she said, in a voice so small, that a human would have had difficulty hearing it. Stefan's ears weren't human, however.

“History cannot repeat itself,” he said firmly.

“I'm not Katherine, Stefan.”

“No, you're not, that's kind of my point. Do you really want to be remade in her image?”

Elena shuddered at the thought. “No.”

He smiled gently. “Then we're agreed?” he asked.

She nodded silently.

“Okay,” he slid back his chair. “I'll go and find Bonnie. Perhaps now would be a good time to clear the air with Damon?”

She nodded again, and then waited until he left through the patio doors, before she stood and made a beeline for the fridge. The hunger, always a fire in the pit of her stomach, was raging high now. Belatedly, she realised Damon had hit it on the head when he said she didn't like feeding in front of Stefan.

Elena grabbed a bag of blood, and stuck in the microwave as she thought over Stefan's words. She wondered what it would be like to live on animal blood – was it really as bad as Damon said? She sighed, as the microwave pinged, and took the bag out. Slitting it open and pouring it into a mug, Elena gulped it down before squaring her shoulders, and heading for the den.

What was it that Damon had said, again? Oh yeah, that it was better to rip it off, like a band-aid.

“We need to talk,” she said, as firmly as she could, when she entered the den.

Alaric muttered something under his breath, but Elena ignored him as she kept her eyes on Damon's reaction.

“Upstairs,” he said

She nodded, relieved. This was not a conversation she wanted in front of witnesses. “That might be best,” she said.

He gave her a half smile, the one that said he knew exactly what she was thinking, before he headed for the stairs. With an apologetic smile towards Alaric, Elena followed him. He headed straight for his bedroom, and Elena suddenly wondered if this was such a good idea. Maybe she should have insisted on a more neutral territory...

But it was too late, he'd already slipped through the door. “Come along, Elena, don't dawdle,” his voice teased, and Elena walked into the room after him.

He was lying on the bed, his fingers knitted together on his stomach, and Elena jerked her mind away from the last time she'd seen him on that bed. She paced the floor as she tried to find the words she needed.

“Maybe you could move a few feet to the left,” he said, after a moment's silence. “I'm quite fond of that rug, and you're wearing a hole in it.”

Elena stopped in her tracks. “It's not funny, Damon,” she said. “This thing....we have, it's getting out of control.” There, she'd said it. Sort of.

A slow smile spread across his face, as he drew quotation marks in the air. “This _thing_,” he said, “Seems to involve a lot of significant pauses.”

She glared at him, both frustrated and amused. “I'm trying to be serious here,” she said. “Try to return the favour.”

He rolled his eyes, and let his feet drop to the floor as he sat on the edge of the bed. “Right, here I am, all serious.”

And then he did the flirty eye thing.

“See? That's what I'm talking about!” she growled, gesturing at him. “We can't keep doing this.”

“Well, I suppose I should be grateful you used the word _we_ towards the end, there,” he said. Elena felt her cheeks heat as her mind flashed to the incident in the shower. He took advantage of her distraction by catching her hand and pulling.

“Oh, for the days when you were human and had better impulse control,” he mocked, as she landed on his lap. A part of her already knew she was doomed when his scent enveloped her.

“This is such a bad idea,” she muttered.

He flipped them over onto the bed, and it was the way that it felt almost natural that unnerved her the most. He had already traced a line of kisses down her neck, and was exploring the hollow above her collarbone, before it registered with her that this may not be the best position from which to have a serious discussion.

“Damon,” she said, trying to sound firm, rather than breathless. “_Damon!_ I didn't ask you up here to make out!”

He lifted his head and smirked up at her. “No reason we can't do both. You talk, and I'll just...carry on.” His hand glided under the shirt she was wearing, and she fought the urge to just close her eyes and let it happen.

She slapped his shoulder.

“Ouch,” he muttered, “You're becoming quite aggressive, aren't you?”

You're one to talk - and stop undoing my shirt!” She tugged the material from his fingers.

“Actually, I think you'll find that's _my_ shirt,” he said. “And very delectable it looks on you, too, but I think we'd have more fun if you took it off again...”

“These evasion tactics are not going to work, you know,” Elena scolded.

He nipped at her collarbone, and she let out a strangled gasp, as arousal curled between her thighs. She should have had this conversation in the kitchen – except she had a very vivid memory of what had happened the _last_ time they'd been alone in the kitchen, and it bore a startling resemblance to this scenario.

“Damn it, Damon, listen to me!” She pressed down on the bed, and tried to roll them over. To her surprise, it worked, and he laughed as he lay spread eagled under her. She scowled down at him. “This isn't supposed to be funny, Damon, I need to talk to you about us.”

His face sobered slightly. “What about us? Everything is alright. isn't it?” .

“Of course, everything isn't all right,” she snapped. “What sort of stupid question is that? _God_, Damon.” She hit his shoulder again, and he just stared at her, eyes crystal clear and questioning. He was waiting for her to talk again, she realised. No pressure, no affirmations, just giving her time to say what she needed to say.

And suddenly her decision didn't seem so clear cut.

“Damn it,” she muttered, as she clambered off the bed.

He propped himself up on his elbow, and smirked at her. “I thought you wanted to talk,” he said, his voice teasing again.

“I don't know what I want any more,” she admitted, under her breath. “Come on, we should join the others.”

He tilted his head, his eyes following her to the door, and then suddenly he was in front of her, his arm barring her way. “Elena, if you have something to say, you should say it now,” he said seriously.

“Or forever hold my peace?” she asked.

“I don't think I'm that lucky,” he said. “But this is obviously weighing on you mind.” His face lit up with understanding. “Has this something to do with Stefan?” he asked, in a singsong voice. “Has he been talking about becoming one with the squirrels again?”

She looked away, suddenly unable to meet his eyes, and his hand snapped out and grabbed her chin. “I don't know what kind of tale my little brother has been spinning you, Elena,” he said flatly. “But you're too young to live on the Bambi diet. You saw what happened to Vicki. I don't want that to be you.”

“Stefan says I can do it,” she said quietly.

“Stefan was not a newly made Vampire when he swore off human blood,” Damon said. “He doesn't know shit...” His voice petered off as he looked at her. “That isn't all, is it?”

She shook her head. “He thinks we should leave – you know, afterwards.”

“Yeah, I'll just bet he does,” Damon drawled. “And you?”

She glared up at him defiantly. “I haven't made up my mind,” she said, daring him to say something.

“Hmm,” he said. “All right.” He lifted his hand, and she pushed past him onto the landing. “So glad we had this chat,” he called after her. “I feel we've really cleared the air!”

“Ass,” she muttered.

“_Heard_ that.”

“I _know._.”


	20. Chapter 20

Damon frowned as he watched Elena walk away and descend the steps. He could guess what Stefan had said to her and, if he was honest with himself, he had steeled himself for the inevitable...but the inevitable hadn't happened.

At least, not yet.

He had been so sure that she had come to her senses, and realised that this little _thing _ they had going on was just something she needed to get out of her system as she transitioned. It wasn't the first time a newly turned Vampire had latched onto their maker. In fact, it was pretty much the normal state of affairs, which was why Stefan had tried his best not to let his jealousy show. He knew that if he hung in there, it would pass.

But something had changed, and it slowly dawned on Damon that this new Elena wasn't like the old one; that he suddenly was in with a chance. He had been so sure that these few weeks was all that there was - chaotic and brief - that he hadn't really entertained the idea that there could be more.

His phone rang in his pocket, and he pulled it out distractedly and looked at the screen. It was the Sheriff. “_Damon,_” she said, sounding worried as he answered. “_Sorry to ring you in the middle of the night, but we have a problem. I've got word that a new group of Vampires have hit town_.”

Damn it. It looked like Gilbert had beat him to the punch.

“I think you may be right,” he said, as his mind reached for an angle he could use. “After John made the connection between the blood bank thefts, and the possibility of Vampires, I did some checking.” A brainwave hit him. “Remember when I asked you to do some checking into Alaric Saltzman, and you discovered all that stuff about his wife?”

“_Yes, the unsolved disappearance_.”

“Yeah, well, don't kill me, but the reason I had you check him out was because he let something slip that made me think he may know something about Vampires. After we talked, I had another chat with him and it turns out that Isobel hasn't so much disappeared, as acquired a new lifestyle. One that requires a liquid diet.”

“_Are you saying...?_”

“Yeah, poor bastard,” Damon said, trying to keep his smirk out of his voice. “He's actually here right now. Apparently, she's just paid him a midnight visit, looking to reconnect. She wasn't pleased to find he'd moved on.”

“_Oh God_.”

“Exactly. Needless to say, the guy is freaked. He's afraid she'll try to go after Jenna Sommers or one of his students.”

There was a pause. “_My daughter takes his class._”

“Yeah, so does Stefan,” Damon said. “Which is why I'm going to email you a photo of her that Alaric has given me. Her name is Isobel. We need to make the town aware she is dangerous.”

“_I'll come up with something_,” the Sheriff said._ “I'll connect her to a series of home invasions, and tell people that under no circumstances they should let her into their homes_.”

Damon smirked. “That's one way of making sure she won't get an invite.”

“_I've been giving this sort of situation a lot of thought over the last few weeks_,” she admitted.

“Which brings us back to your original reason for calling. What can I do for you, Sheriff?”

There was a hesitation on the other side the phone. “_I'm not sure if I should ask this. You seem to have enough on your plate_.”

“Liz, just tell me,” Damon said.

She sighed. “_Gilbert thinks he may have tracked down the source of yesterday's Vampire attack,” _she said._ “He says it's the same one who was prowling behind your house. He needs back up. I offered to go as well, but he said it might work better as just a two man job._”

Yeah, Damon just bet he did. “It's probably for the best,” he said. “Looks like you'll have your hands full keeping an eye out for this Isobel character. Give me the address,” he said.

“_It's a house that's just gone into receivership, up by Bloom Way._,” she said, before giving him the exact address

Bingo. He now knew where Isobel was. “Tell him I'll meet him there in half an hour,” he said, as he made for the stairs. “I need to take care of some family stuff first.”

“_How is Stefan, by the way? I was talking to Jenna, earlier, and she was very concerned. I think she was under the impression that Stefan and Elena were off together?_”

_Oops_. “Ah, yeah, actually I think they might have had a bit of a dust-up,” Damon said. “Elena wanted to go visit a friend in Georgia, and Stefan wasn't into it. Words got exchanged, Elena left, Stefan got drunk....sorry, I should have called Jenna once I realised Stefan wasn't with her.”

“_Does Stefan know where she is? She's not answering her phone_.”

“I'll ask him when I see him,” Damon said, as he eyed Elena, who was waiting for him at the bottom of the stairs.

“_He's out?_”

“Staying with a school friend...Bonnie?”

“_I see. Well, call me when...well, you know, whatever happens._”

“Yes, ma'am.”

“_Oh, you're a real comedian,_” she said ruefully, and then hung up.

“Jenna is starting to get worried,” Elena said softly.

“I could have told you that,” Alaric sighed. “She's worried sick. She's just trying not to show it.”

“You should phone her,” Damon said.

“If I phone her, I'll have to lie to her, and I don't want to do that,” Elena said.

“You're going to have to, sooner or later,” Damon said. “Might as well get in the practice.” he glanced across the room, at Anna and Jeremy. “Any chance there's a house on that list on Bloom Way?”

Anna looked up. “Funny you should say that...”

“You have an address - how did that happen?” Alaric asked, giving Damon a suspicious look.

“About a minute ago, courtesy of Uncle John, via the Sheriff. It's probably a trap...scratch that, it's _definitely_ a trap,” Damon said.

Alaric gave him a long look. “You think the Sheriff is in on it?”

“If by 'in on it', you mean in league with John, then no,” Damon said. “Mind you, she might surprise me. It's been known to happen.”

Elena snorted. “Tell me about it.”

“My, my, aren't we in a _mood _,” he said flatly. “Go feed.”

“I only fed about fifteen minutes ago,” she protested.

“Well, you need to feed _again_,” he said. “If you were feeding from the vein, you'd be going through at least a body a night. That's eight pints of blood, Elena, do the math.”

“You don't drink that much,” she protested.

“I'm dieting,” he bit back.

Elena gave him a dark look, before stalking in the direction of the kitchen.

“Looks to me like she isn't the only one in a mood,” Alaric said.

“And it's not a mood for witty banter, either,” Damon said tersely. “We need to make our move quickly, before Isobel decides on a plan B.” He glanced over at Anna, who eyed him back.

“You've got something to say?” she asked archly.

“I need you to stay here to keep an eye on Elena. Sun's coming up soon, and she doesn't have a ring yet.” His eyes rested on Jeremy, who was slouched on the couch, a wry expression on his face that reminded him strongly of his sister. He pulled Johnathan Gilbert's ring out of his pocket, and held it up to get a better look at the design. He had taken it off Gilbret's finger to remind him of his vulnerability, but now he had a better idea. He threw it across the room and it landed on Jeremy's lap.

“What is this?” Jeremy asked, as he picked it up and looked at it doubtfully.

“It belonged to your father,” Damon said. “As far as I can make out, it'll protect you from injury and death. It's a regular get out of jail free card...well, more like a get out _alive _card. Same difference”

Jeremy looked at him warily. “And you're just giving this to me, no questions asked?”

Damon shrugged. “You want me to take it back?” he asked dryly.

Jeremy stared at the ring again, frowning slightly. “This ring looks familiar,” he said softly, before looking up, his eyes resting on Alaric. “It looks like yours.”

“Yeah,” Alaric said hoarsely. “I got mine from Isobel.”

“So she cared at some point,” Jeremy said.

“At some point,” Alaric agreed.

“Are you going to have a problem with this?” Damon asked Alaric sharply.

“Of course I'm going to have a problem with it,” Alaric snapped back. “She's my wife!” He winced. “_Was_ my wife...was.”

“You really should try to remember that last part,” Damon told him flatly.

“Or what?” Alaric demanded. “You''ll _kill _me? You already tried that, remember?”

“Hey, _you_ were the one who went all Jack Bauer on me. I was just defending myself.”

“You've already tried that line too,” Alaric snorted. “It's just as believable the second time around.”

“Okay, how about this for believable,” Damon ground out. “She came here looking for two things – the invention and Elena. Notice someone who's conspicuously absent from that list?”

“I only have your word for that, though, don't I?”

“You think I'm lying?”

“Wouldn't be the first time.”

“Christ, you're like a couple of two year olds,” Anna muttered.

“Seriously,” Jeremy agreed, with a half smirk.

“No comments from the peanut gallery,” Damon snapped. “Unless it's a plan to get rid of our little Vampire infestation.”

“Okay, I've eaten,” Elena said briskly, as she stalked back into the room. “Lets go and...” she paused, and eyed the room. “Okay, what did I miss?”

Anna rolled her eyes. “Hello? You do realise you have super hearing now, right? Try tuning in.”

Elena looked embarrassed. “All the noise gives me a headache,” she admitted.

“It becomes easier once you learn to focus,” Damon told her. “You can practice while I'm gone – Anna will help you, won't you, Anna?”

“_Wait_”

_What?_

Damon smirked at the two spoke simultaneously, and then glared at each other. “You two will make cute in-laws. I can just imagine your thanksgiving dinners.”

“Looks to me like you'll be in-lawing it yourself,” Alaric muttered.

“Don't even,” Damon said, feeling momentarily disconcerted at the thought.

“Hey, I thought you liked family night,” Jeremy teased.

“Oh, sure I do - especially when the youngest is served as the entree,” Damon shot back. “Their blood is so tender and _sweet._”

Elena rolled her eyes. “Damon, you're not eating my brother,” she said.

“What, you want first dibs?” Damon said, before he could stop himself. Elena's eyes snapped up, pain starkly showing, before she blurred out of the room.

“Oh, way to go,” Jeremy said tiredly. “Real _smooth_.”

Damon closed his eyes, and took a deep breath, reminding himself that Elena would be even more pissed with him if he ripped her brother's head off his shoulders. “Wait here,” he ground out, to Alaric. He blurred after her, streaking through the kitchen and into the garden. He paused, frowning as he scented the air. She wouldn't have been so stupid as to leave the vicinity of the house, would she?

Dumb question. Sure she would, if she was upset enough. He darted over to the edge of the trees, and stopped dead in his tracks as he saw a fleck of fresh blood on leaf. He leaned in and caught another scent in the air. For a moment, he though Elena had doubled back on herself, and he was catching her scent twice, but that wasn't it...

He knew what it was, he just wasn't quite sure he believed it. His mouth went dry.

Katherine was back.

And she had taken Elena.


	21. Chapter 21

Katherine was back.

Katherine was back and she had taken Elena.

His mind went white, refusing to make sense of the words. He scooped up the drop of blood from the leaf and tasted it. It was Elena's. He collapsed onto the ground, his thoughts racing as pain, anger, and panic coalesced into one thought.

He scrambled to his feet, and blurred back into the house. “Change of plan,” he said flatly. “We're all going.”

“Where's Elena?” Jeremy asked.

“Katherine has her,” Damon said coolly.

Anna's eyes snapped to his. “Then she's probably dead.”

Damon gave her a dark look. “Probably,” he said, as he struggled to keep his rage leashed. He needed to stay in control.

“I'm not going to die for you, Salvatore,” Anna warned.

“No, but chances are you'll die for him,” he said sharply, nodding at Jeremy.

“Is that a threat?” Anna asked, rising to her feet.

“Just an observation,” Damon said. “Or did you actually think Katherine was going to stop at just one Gilbert?”

Anna's eyes flickered with doubt, as she slowly sat down again.

“Wait a minute. We don't know anything yet,” Jeremy said. “Elena could still be alive.”

“He's right,” Alaric piped up. “After all, if she was just going to just kill her, you'd have found her body, right?”

“There's no such thing as _just_ with Katherine,” Anna muttered. “If Elena is still alive, chances are she's already wishing she was dead.”

Alaric shook his head slowly. “You know, maybe I'm missing something here but what exactly did you see in this woman – her sparkling personality?”

Damon ignored him as he pulled out his cell. “Do you have a number for your uncle?” he asked Jeremy.

“Why do you want it?” Jeremy asked, as he took out his own cell and started scrolling through his contacts.

“You know the old adage, enemy of my enemy...?” Damon drawled.

“But John is working with Isobel, which means they're working with Katherine,” Alaric reasoned.

Damon shook his head. “I wouldn't be so sure of that, not anymore. Katherine changed the playing field when he took Elena.”

“I though we'd already established the fact Isobel doesn't give a flying fuck about her daughter,” Alaric said.

“That's the party line, but even if that's true, I'm thinking Daddy may have other ideas,” Damon said.

“Daddy?” Alaric's eyes widened. “You mean John Gilbert is Elena's father?”

“Seriously? You haven't already figured that out?” Damon asked. “Why did you think the guy is so pissed with us?”

“He's a hater. People like that don't need a reason,” Anna said quietly.

“Well, I guess we're going to find out if I'm right,” Damon said, as Jeremy held up his phone and he read the number. He tapped out a text. “**Katherine has Elena. We need to talk. My place. Now.**”

“You really think that's going to work?” Alaric asked, reading it over his shoulder.

“If he doesn't show up in the next fifteen minutes, we'll at least know where he stands,” he said, as he at last dialled the number he'd rather not.

“_Yes?_” answered Stefan.

“Katherine has taken Elena,” he said, getting straight to the point.

There was a long pause on the other end of the phone. “_Are you certain?_” he eventually asked quietly.

“Yes,” he said shortly.

The was another long pause, and in the background he could hear Bonnie's voice, taut with worry. “_Stefan, what's wrong?_”

“Bring the witch with you,” Damon said promptly.

“_She may not be amenable to that,_” Stefan said.

“I don't care how you do it, drag her here by the hair if you have to,” Damon said. “Just get her here. We're going to need all the fire power we can get-” There was a knock at the door, and Damon's eyes narrowed as he picked up the tell-tale heartbeat. Daddy dearest had arrived; that was quick - too quick. Gilbert had obviously missed his calling as a stalker.

“_Who's that?_” Stefan asked.

“Just get here fast, brother,” Damon said, nodding at Jeremy to answer the door. “I'm not waiting for stragglers.”

“How are we going to play this?” Anna asked lowly, as Jeremy disappeared down the hallway.

“Not very nicely,” Damon answered.

“He's Jeremy's uncle,” she reminded him.

“Ah, so _that's_ why you haven't killed him yet,” he said.

She shrugged. “I have no objection to roughing him up a bit.”

“If it is in a good cause,” Damon said, with a knowing smile. “Make it look good.”

“All the usual suspects, I see,” Gilbert said, as he strolled in. “Although I don't see Stefan. Trouble in paradise?”

Damon eyed him. He had cleaned himself up since he'd last seen him, but he could see the strain around his eyes. “I'd quit the bad boy act if I were you. You're way too breakable to get away with it, nowadays” he said. “Where's Isobel?”

“I'm not her keeper,” he said.

“Ah. Already left town, has she? Or is she busy cosying up to Katherine instead? Maybe watching her daughter get tortured gets her off.”

Gilbert glared at him coldly. “You really are a piece of work.”

“Well, you know what they say. It takes one to know one,” Damon said.

Anna was a blur as she slammed Gilbert up against the wall. “Let me spell things out for you,” she said, through gritted teeth. “I _know_ you killed my mother, and nothing would give me greater pleasure than to ram my hand into your chest and rip out your still beating heart.”

“Then why haven't you done it?” Gilbert asked harshly. “Taking your time, aren't you?”

Anna's eyes darkened, her teeth lengthening. “Good _question_.”

“Anna,” Jeremy said softly. “I know this is a lot to ask, but we need him alive. He's the only contact we have to Katherine.”

Anna looked over her shoulder at Jeremy, her eyes smoothing to their natural colouring, as she slowly gathered herself and let Gilbert go. His feet eased back onto the floor, and he straightened his jacket.

“Thank you, Jeremy,” he said.

“I didn't do it for you,” Jeremy said shortly.

“And, trust me, it's only a reprieve if you don't give us what we need,” Damon added.

“I'm not afraid to die, Vampire,” Gilbert said.

“Cute,” Damon said. “And does Jenna agree? Oh wait, you never actually told her the family secret, did you? Kind of makes her vulnerable, don't you think? Almost like open season.”

“Elena would never forgive you, if you did that,” he said.

“Oh please, you have no idea what Elena would or wouldn't do,” Damon snorted. “You didn't even have a clue when she was still human – and, in case you haven't noticed, Elena isn't around to give her opinion; what with her being in Katherine's clutches, and all.”

“Katherine didn't take Elena,” Gilbert said flatly.

Damon felt his teeth lengthen, as anger coursed through him. “Time to set some ground rules,” he said. “Lie to me again, and I'll take the fingers from your left hand, lie after that, and I'll take the fingers from your right - I think you know where I'm going with this.”

“I'm not lying,” he said. “Don't you think it was the first thing I checked before I came over here? I had Isobel phone her. She's in San Francisco.”

Damon flashed him a cold smile. “Don't say I didn't warn you,” he ground out. “Say good bye to your little pinkie.”

For a moment, Gilbert's bravado slipped as he shrank back. “No, I told you-”

“Damon is right,” a smooth voice interjected, and Damon turned to see Isobel saunter in from the kitchen. “It's Katherine's scent. I guess she lied to me.”

Anna was the first to recover. “And you're surprised by this?” she asked archly. “I guess you don't know Katherine very well.”

Isobel ignored her as she eyed the room. “My, my...three ex lovers in the one place; how novel. Maybe we should play twister?”

Alaric gave a grunt of disgust. “We didn't ask you here to play games, Isobel,” he said.

“You never asked me here at all,” she pointed out.

“We asked Gilbert,” Alaric said. “Apparently, it's practically the same thing.”

Isobel smirked. “Are we jealous, Rick?” she asked. “After all this time?”

Alaric just stared at her, as if he didn't recognise her at all. Which he didn't, Damon supposed. His own memories of Isobel while she was still human were vague at best. There was an attraction, yes, but he didn't get attached to humans. To him, they only got interesting _after_ they got turned... at least, that had been true until Elena Gilbert had strolled into her life.

The front door slammed open, and Stefan flashed into the room. Damon glared into the empty space behind him. “Please tell me you didn't come alone?”

“Bonnie needed time to gather her things,” Stefan said. “I came ahead.”

Damon rubbed his eyes. “Christ, Stefan, could you just_ try _to remember Bonnie isn't exactly our biggest fan? You should have stayed and kept an eye on her.”

“Elena's her friend,” Stefan said. “She'll come through.”

“And if she can also find of a way of getting rid of every other vampire in town at the same time, she'll consider it a twofer,” Damon said.

“You really don't trust her, do you?” Jeremy asked, amused,

“You didn't see the look on her face when she realised Elena was now a Vampire,” he said shortly. “Add to that the little fact I tried to kill her once, and her Grandmother's death, and it all tallies up to one pretty heady revenge cocktail.” And Damon couldn't really blame her, to be honest, but that didn't mean that he was going to let the witch pull a fast one on him.

Gilbert frowned. “What has Bonnie got to do with anything?” he asked.

“Witch,” drawled Isobel.

Gilbert's eyebrow's rose. “Really?”

Damon rolled his eyes. “Seriously? You really didn't keep track of Emily's descendants? Or did you think that after old John Gilbert burned her at the stake, all your witchy troubles disappeared into the smoke?”

Gilbert sighed. “Another problem to put on the list.”

Stefan's eyes narrowed. “Bonnie is not a _problem_ to be fixed,” he said coldly.

“Speak for yourself,” Damon said.

“Seriously, it's beginning to feel like supernatural Grand Central Station around here,” Jeremy muttered.

Damon pulled a face. “I don't trust her, but we do need her,” he said. “Katherine is old; older than any of us here. Anna might be able to slow her down, but the rest of us would be doggie chow. We need the edge a witch would give us.”

“Isobel gave him a long look. “You're seriously considering this, aren't you?”

“Let me spell this out to you,” Damon snapped. “Either you help us, or I put you down. Your choice.”

Isobel smirked. “You think it would be that easy?” she asked.

Something inside Damon snapped, and before he even thought about it, his fingers were already around Isobel's neck. “It seems you need a refresher course on how this works,” he hissed, as he slammed her back onto a chair. “All three of us are over a century old, and _you_ haven't reached your first decade yet – translation? Small fish, _big _pond. Do we understand each other?”

There was tentative cough, and Damon's head swerved around to see a very nervous looking delivery man holding a small package. “The door was open,” he croaked. “Parcel for a Mr Damon Salvatore?” Damon sighed, flashing a look at his brother, who quickly moved in on him.

“Thank you,” Stefan said smoothly, taking the package from his nerveless fingers. “Do you need me to sign for it?”

Gulping, the delivery man, pulled out a digital pad from his pocket, and Stefan signed it before putting a hand on his shoulder and catching his eyes. The tension leached out of the delivery man's shoulders, as Stefan spoke to him in a low voice. “_You saw nothing here_,” he said. “_You didn't even enter the house. I signed for the package at the door and gave you a good tip.”_ He slipped a twenty into the delivery man's shirt pocket. “_You can leave now._” The delivery man turned slowly and walked silently out of the house.

“Who's it from?” Damon asked.

Stefan frowned at the return address at the back of the parcel. “It's from a jewellers.”

Damon felt something inside him clench. It was Elena's ring. He eyed the slit in the curtains. Sure enough, dawn was on the horizon. It was the end of second longest night of Damon's life, the longest being the night he'd been turned. With a curse, he let go of Isobel's throat. “No more games,” he said. “Are you in or not?”

“I didn't want this life for her,” Isobel admitted quietly, rubbing her neck. “She might be better off dead.”

“Not at Katherine's hand, she isn't,” Anna said. “None of you know her as well as I do. I've been on the receiving end of that bitch's games for centuries.”

Damon raised a eyebrow. “Then why did you put up with her?” he asked.

“Because for some strange reason, my mother loved her,” Anna said. “I never could figure out why...you know Katherine was the one who turned us, right?”

“Know? No. Suspected...?” he shrugged. “It seemed to fit.”

“She fed my father to us, you know,” Anna said, and Damon caught Stefan's flinch out of the corner of his eye. “She said it was all part of the process, severing familial ties. I guess she didn't follow her own advice, seeing as I can't seem to move without stumbling over her descendants these days.”

“Katherine doesn't follow any rules,” Stefan said. “She just dictates them to others.”

“I just wish I could figure out what her game is,” Damon said aloud.

“I think I may be able to help you there.”

Damon rolled his eyes as Bonnie stalked into the room, her chin at a determined tilt. “Does anybody knock any more?” he asked. “Maybe we should just install a revolving door.”

“Do you want to hear this or not?” Bonnie asked coldly.

“Fine,” Damon bit out. “Dazzle me with your insight.”

Bonnie's eyes narrowed, but she continued on her trajectory to the dining table. “You were right,” she said bluntly, as she emptied her bag onto the table. “Emily _did_ lie to me.”

“And I'm sure we're soon going to get to the part I _don't_ know,” Damon said impatiently.

“As I _said_, Emily did lie to me,” Bonnie repeated, throwing him a dirty look. “But not for the reasons you think. She really was trying to protect us from what was in that tomb, but it wasn't the vampires from 1864 she was trying to protect us from...” She cleared her throat, as she flipped to the back of Emily's Grimoire. “I never noticed it before, but what you said when I was last here got me thinking, and I went through the pages again – and this time, I noticed the last two pages were gummed together, so I peeled them apart.” She held the Grimoire up, pages facing outwards. “And this is what I found.”

Damon scowled as his eyes first focused on the line drawing. It was a tall, cadaverously lean man, whose fingers were almost drawn into claws. His lips were drawn peeled back and showed fangs, and his eyes were drawn as dark pools. His hair fell to his shoulders. “So it's a Vampire, so what?” he asked impatiently.

“Not just any Vampire,” Bonnie said. “This is Katherine's sire and, apparently, she really, _really_ misses him.”

Damon took the Grimoire from her fingers, and began to read. “You have got to be _kidding_ me,” he muttered, as his eyes flew through the text.

“I guess it wasn't the lure of the Salvatore brothers that kept her here, after all,” Bonnie said, with brittle sweetness.

“Bitch,” he said succinctly.

“Right back at you,” she said.

“Can someone please fill us in?” Jeremy asked.

“She'll need a witch,” Damon said, ignoring him.

“I'm sure she came prepared,” Bonnie said tersely.

Anna grabbed the Grimoire from his hands and read it. “Does she really think she can do something like this and nobody will notice?” she asked.

“Well, it's not as if she's planning on leaving any witnesses,” Damon said dryly.

“What's going on?” Gilbert asked sharply.

“It seems that my dearest departed father wasn't as forthcoming about the origins of the Founder's Council as I thought he was,” Damon said. “And from the look on your face, I'm guessing you weren't in on the dirty little secret either.”

“You really didn't suspect anything at all, back them?” Bonnie asked Damon. “You didn't even ask yourself how the Founder's Council were so _prepared_?”

“I had other things on my mind at the time,” Damon muttered.

“That's one way of putting it,” Anna snorted.

Stefan read the pages over Anna's shoulder, his face going still. “She's crazy,” he said.

“She's desperate,” Damon countered. “Not necessarily the same thing.”

“It doesn't matter what she is,” Stefan said. “We can't let her do it.”

“Do _what?_” Gilbert asked again.

“Resurrect her dead maker,” Bonnie said.

Silence fell in the room “That's impossible,” Gilbert said eventually.

“Not impossible, just very difficult,” Anna said softly, eyeing him speculatively.

“And very messy,” Damon reminded her, not liking the expression on her face. “How many people in this town are descendants of the original council?”

“Too many,” Stefan said. “It'll be a bloodbath.”

“And Elena will be the first to die,” Damon said, as he felt his world contracting.

“Why?” Gilbert demanded.

“Because she is of both bloodlines,” Bonnie said. “The bloodline that killed him, and the bloodline that descends from him. The perfect catalyst for the resurrection spell.”

Gilbert paled. “What are they going to do with her?”

Damon snatched the Grimoire from Anna's hands and gave it to him, nodding in satisfaction as Gilbert fell into a chair as he read. Guess he had called it correctly, after all.

Johnathan Gilbert may be an asshole, but he did love his daughter.


	22. Chapter 22

When Elena awoke, it was to a mind numbing hunger. Her skin burned hotly, as if it had been slowly flayed, and she felt her back stick painfully to the sheets beneath her. The metallic tang of her own blood filled her mouth. She couldn't move; her arms and legs were chained tightly to the iron frame bed that was obviously bolted to the floor, and she could still feel the Vervain sit heavily in her veins

Katherine’s voice filled the room. “Humans call it _death by a thousand cuts_. Not that bleeding out can actually _kill _a vampire, but it isn't pleasant. Are we thirsty yet?”

Elena twisted her head to follow the voice, and schooled her face to show nothing. Something told her it was important not to show fear. “What's the point of all this? I thought you'd rather me dead” she asked, her voice hoarse from dryness, as she spotted Katherine sprawled on a chaise lounge backed up against the far wall. There were no windows, Elena realised, and she couldn't hear beyond the four walls. They must be underground.

“My, my, I can practically hear the wheels turning in your head,” Katherine said, amused. “I wouldn't get any ideas. They're not going to find you in time.”

“In time for what?”

“Why, In time to save you,” Katherine said. “And the town, of course, but that's neither here nor there.” She got to her feet, smiling mischievously, and Elena shuddered. How was it they looked so alike? She knew they were related, but their identical looks were eerie.

“Why are you doing this?” she asked.

Katherine smirked. “What can I say, I miss my maker,” she said.

“Your maker?” Elena echoed.

“Oh, didn't you know?” Katherine said. “The founders of this town killed him and then buried him in this godforsaken place. They were such _hypocrites_. They called us unnatural and evil, but they didn't even blink when they coerced their pet witch into using him in their ritual. The life of a vampire, and the lives of a member of every family on the council.”

_Elena frowned. “What are you talking about?”_

_“Did you ever ask Damon how his mother died?” Katherine asked lightly. “He was very fond of her, you know, and he was devastated when she died. His father told him it was a bad flu or something – people died from that sort of thing then - but it wasn't the flu. Damon's father strapped her to a bed, not unlike the one you're tied to now, and made my maker drain her dry. They kept him alive for many, many weeks, starving him in between feeds and, then, when he'd drained exactly six founding family members, they had their witch kill him and bury him under this godforsaken town. He was to be their protection, you see, from all those things that go bump in the dark. A pity for them it didn't go as planned. I guess Lockwood should have mentioned the whole werewolf bloodline thing – it left quite a gap in their spell walls.”_

_“This is crazy,” Elena said quietly._

_“No, Elena, this is _history,_” Katherine said. “And guess what? It's repeating itself.” She stood up and Elena could pick out the sound of feet on the other side of the door. Katherine caught her reaction and smiled._

“I've already got your first meal ready – a Lockwood, as luck would have it, “ she said, as she leaned over Elena and unlocked her chains. Elena hissed with pain, her eyes swerving to the door as it opened. A woman Elena didn't recognise dragged a half unconscious Tyler though the door.

“Bon appetite,” Katherine as she sauntered towards the door. “I'll be back to pick up the leftovers later.”

Elena felt her hunger rush through her as the two heartbeats filled the room. There was no way she could control it, she had lost too much blood. She felt something inside her flinch at the thought of killing Tyler, even through the vervain induced haze, but the woman was fair game. Gritting her teeth, she ignored her weakness and pain, and and rolled off the bed, crouching as she eyed her target. She felt her teeth lengthen, and the now familiar tightness around her eyes as the need to feed ran through her.

She sprang.

And howled with pain, missing her target as her mind exploded.

“Don't bother even trying,” the woman said lowly, her voice knifing through the pain. “You're too young to fight me.”

“Witch,” Elena gasped out.

“My, my, aren't you a bright little vampire,” the woman said. “Try not to spill too much blood on the floor, it's a bitch to clean up.”

She heard the heavy clang of the steel door, and was eventually able to open her eyes as the witch's hold loosened. Tyler was strewn on the floor before her, laid out like a buffet. Elena bit back a sob as the hunger rushed through her. She looked away, curling her hands into fists, letting her nails bite into her palms; the pain failed to break the spiralling need to feed. On the floor, Tyler groaned, and Elena's head snapped around, following the sound.

“I'm so sorry,” she told him, and then her mouth latched onto his throat.

 

~~~*~~*~~*~~~

“Do we have a plan?” Stefan asked lowly, as he followed Damon into the basement..

“We find Katherine, kill her, and rescue Elena,” Damon said succinctly.

“That's a directive, not a plan,” Stefan said dryly. "I was hoping for something a little more specific."

Damon whirled on him, glaring. “If you have a better idea, feel free to share,” he said.

“Well, we could try to delay her,” Stefan said quietly. “The spell requires her to feed a member of each founding family to Elena before killing her. All we need to do is make sure she doesn't get to one of the families.”

Damon halted. “Liz's family is the smallest, easiest to protect,” he said thoughtfully.

“If that's the reasoning you're going to with,” Stefan said, with a smirk.

Damon eyed him “Spit it out,” he said.

“Nothing. I'm just not used to seeing you being protective of your friends - or even_ having_ friends,” Stefan said.

“Don't start making assumptions, brother, you know how well that worked out for us _last_ time.”

Stefan gave him a wry look. “I'll try to restrain myself.”

“Speaking of restraint,” Damon drawled. “We have the feeding thing under control?”

“It's not an issue.”

Damon gave him a long look, before shrugging. “Okay, it's your funeral,” he said. They reached the bottom of the narrow steps, and Damon pushed open the door. Their small crop of Vervain grew in the corner, and it was getting more meagre by the day. He'd have to look into planting a fresh crop, but for now... “Where are the gloves?”

Stefan produced a pair of heavy duty leather gloves from a drawer and tossed them at him. “We're going to need more than vervain to slow Katherine down, especially if she has back up – and she _always_ has back up.”

“And again, we're back to the part where I ask you if you have a better plan,” Damon said.

“I might,” said Anna's voice, and Damon turned to see her leaning against the door jamb.

“Eavesdropping, were we?” he asked.

“I thought it might be in my best interests,” she said, as side stepped into the room. “So this is your batcave, huh?” She eyed the vervain. “Complete with your own stock of Kryptonite.”

“I think you might be mixing your comic book references,” Stefan said dryly.

“Whatever,” she said. “The point is, Stefan has a _point_.”

“Hold the presses,” Damon said. “A new dawn has...dawned.”

“Aha..ha,” Stefan said.

Anna rolled her eyes. “What I'm _saying_ is Katherine is not going to fall for the same trick twice, so I wouldn't bother with the vervain. What we need is bait. Something she needs so badly, she'll try anything to get it ...including walking into something she suspects is a trap – and she will suspect it.”

Damon crossed her arms. “I'm listening.”

“The witch,” Anna said. “She's the weak spot. They're rare and hard to come by, and the only local alternative is sitting upstairs. I say we check out this place, get the witch alone, and take her.”

“Not if she takes us down first,” Stefan said.

“She can't take us_ all _down," Anna said. "And we'll have Bonnie running interference.”

“She won't be happy with us killing the other witch,” Stefan said.

“Who said anything about killing her?” Anna said. “We trank her, and keep her prisoner here. It'll be only a matter of time before Katherine comes looking, and we'll be waiting for her on home ground.”

“What aren't you telling us?” Damon asked.

Anna made a face “We're going to have to convince Bonnie to use the spell her grandmother used in order to trap Katherine – the one that lets a vampire in, but doesn't let it out again.”

“The spell that _killed _her grandmother you mean,” Stefan said flatly.

“I get that,” Anna said. “But lets be blunt here. Bonnie's grandmother was getting on in years, and that played a large factor in her death. Bonnie is young. She should be okay.”

“Or,” Damon said. “We don't use Bonnie at all, but get the other witch to do it. She is disposable anyway.”

“Why would she do that?” Stefan asked.

“Because she wants to live,” Damon said.

“This could go so wrong,” Stefan muttered.

Damon slapped his hands together. “Right, we've got a plan,” he said, a shade too cheerily. “Alaric and Gilbert will cover Liz and her family, and the rest of us will get the witch.”

“What about Jeremy?” Stefan asked.

“Oh come on, we both know there's no way in hell he'll agree to being left behind,” Damon said. “We'll make him our designated driver.”

“Because that worked out so well _last_ time,” Stefan said.

“You think Gilbert will go along with this? Elena is his daughter, after all.” Anna said, “He may not appreciate being shunted off to protection duty.”

“One of Elena's parents on this witch hunt is more than enough, don't you think?” Damon asked. “And I know Isobel better than Gilbert, it's easier to read her.”

“Okay,” Stefan said, nodding. “Lets do it.”

“I'll tell Jeremy,” Anna said, making for the door.

“Wait,” Damon said, catching her arm. “First, I want a promise from you.”

“What do you mean?”

“The resurrection spell,” he said slowly. “I read the small print. Elena would work for your Mother, too... all you would need to do is feed Gilbert to her and then stake her as part of the ceremony.”

“The blood of both lines making a bridge between the living and the dead,” Anna said. “I'll admit it, it _did_ occur to me...for all of two seconds. Then I remembered that my mother would never forgive me if I did that. It wasn't her way.”

Damon looked at her, and she looked back steadily.

“Hmm,” he said, letting her arm go.

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” she said dryly.

“Nothing personal,” he said. “I'm just making sure we all know where we stand.”

Stefan turned to him, as soon as she was out of hearing range. “Do you believe her?” he asked.

“I believe she means it right _now,_” he said. “But that might change.”

“Another thing to worry about,” Stefan said.

“We'll put it on the list,” Damon said, as he threw the gloves back into the drawer. "But for now, lets catch us some witchy bait."


	23. Chapter 23

_Dah-dum._

Elena felt the wounds on her back pull together as the hot blood flooded down her throat. She pulled her meal in tighter, drawing in more.

_Dah-dum._

The haze slowly cleared as the pain and hunger eases. She remembered where she was. She remembered _who_ she was.

_Dah...dum..._

_“Tyler’” she muttered, against his skin._

_ _Dah..._ _

She wrenched her teeth out of his throat, shuddering as she tried to get her hunger under control. Instinctively, she bit into her wrist, but then she hesitated. What would vampire blood do to a werewolf?

_Dum... Dah..._

Elena felt her panic rise. Anything was better than dead, right? _There was a time when you would have thought differently_, a quiet voice in the back of her mind said, but that girl didn’t exist anymore What did she think now?

_He was never human to begin with, what does he have to lose?_

She pried open his mouth, and held her bleeding wrist to it.

~~~*~*~*~~~

“Are you ready for this?” Damon asked impatiently, as he peered through the branches. The sun was beginning to set and they still hadn’t made their move.

Bonnie rolled her eyes and turned to Stefan. “Remind me again - why exactly did we bring _him_ along?” she asked.

“He came with the rescue package,” Stefan said dryly.

A shadow flitted through the treeline, and Damon’s nose flared. It was Anna. “Well?” he hissed, as Anna stepped into the clearing.

“The witch is on the ground floor,” she said, “I don’t sense Katherine but...” She shrugged.

Damon and Stefan exchanged a look.

“She’ll be expecting a rescue attempt,” Stefan said.

“The bitch is here,” Damon agreed.

“We need to lure her out,” Anna said, with a nod.

Stefan looked around. “Where’s Isobel?”

Anna’s eyes narrowed. “I thought she’d circled around to you.”

“Great, Mommy dearest is on the prowl,” Damon snarled, his nose flaring as he tried to pick up her scent. They hadn’t exchanged blood in years, so any connection they’d had, had long faded to the default setting of she is alive/she is dead. Frustration boiled through him. “I should have staked her when I had the chance,” he muttered.

“Tut, tut, temper, temper,” Isobel purred, as she strutted into the clearing. “You should keep an eye on that.”

“Any sign of Katherine?” Stefan asked, cutting to the chase.

“She’s availing herself of the local cuisine in the master bedroom,” Isobel said.

“Katherine always did have a big appetite,” Damon said flatly.

Bonnie’s face became as impassive as stone. “Let’s get this over with,” she said.

Stefan nodded and pulled out a small tranquilliser gun out of his backpack. It belonged to Alaric, something he kept at hand just in case he stumbled across a compelled human that didn’t know when to quit.

Damon smirked, as if he’d be able to tell if someone was actually compelled. Alaric was a quick study, but he was still impossibly naive about certain things.

“Now the difficult part - luring the witch out of the house,” said Anna.

“Maybe not,” Bonnie said quietly.

Stefan frowned. “Bonnie, it’s too dangerous, you need to keep your energy reserves for the other spell-”

“Who said anything about magic?” Bonnie interrupted, holding out her hand for the gun. “I don’t need an invite, remember?”

“Bonnie, I don’t think-” Stefan began.

“Do it,” Damon said.

Nodding, Bonnie took the weapon from Stefan’s fingers.

“How will you get her over the threshold?” Stefan protested.

“Jeremy will help me,” Bonnie said simply.

Annie frowned. “That’s a bad idea.”

“She’s his sister,” Bonnie said, taking out her phone. “Try and stop him.”

Damon snatched the phone from her fingers. “Phone tones carry,” he reminded her.

“I’ll get him,” Anna said, before blurring through the trees.

Isobel smiled as she leaned against a tree, folding her arms. “You do realise this is going to be a disaster?” she asked.

“And who is to blame for that, exactly?” Damon asked. “If you hadn’t gone running to Katherine, spilling your guts, Elena would be safe.”

“And if you hadn’t turned her, it wouldn’t have been an issue,” Isobel said flatly.

“You know as well as I that it was only a matter of time before she was turned,” Damon said,.

“And at least _this_ way, you get to have a say in her life,” Isobel said, her voice sweet. “Enjoying the fringe benefits, are we? I remember how that was like.”

Damon sensed Stefan move uncomfortably beside him, and Bonnie’s hostility radiated off her like a furnace, but he ignored it as he gave Isobel his full attention. “You are not Elena,” he said lowly, “And you can’t remember what you never had. It was sex, Isobel, pure and simple, nothing more.”

“While you and Elena are true love, of course,” Isobel said. “I wonder what your brother has to say about that.”

“My brother has got nothing to do with it,” Damon said quietly. “That is Elena’s decision.”

“And, of course, you’re not pressurising her in any way,” Isobel said.

Damon saw the guilt flash across Stefan’s face but ignored it; he was well aware of his little brother’s...issues.

A twig cracked, and Damon turned to see Anna and Jeremy enter the clearing. Elena was probably going to kill him for dragging Jeremy into this, but beggars can’t be choosers. “Has Anna explained to you what we need you to do?”

He nodded, visibly steeling himself. “Yeah.”

Bonnie gave him a strained smile. “Let’s go, she said.

Damon eyed Stefan, who was watching them worriedly as they stepped from the cover of the trees and into the low brush that led into the house’s gardens.

“We should fan out,” Anna said, “Last thing we need is another nasty surprise.”

“Stefan and I willl take the left side of the house, you and Damon can take the right,” Isobel answered promptly.

Damon looked at her. “Trying to get rid of me?”

“Always, Damon, always,” Isobel said, with a false smile.

Stefan twitched an eyebrow at Damon, who shrugged. She was up to something, of course she was up to something, but it wasn’t as if they could do anything about it right now.

“Let’s get this party rolling,” he said, as he stalked out of the trees.

~~~*~*~*~~~

Elena sat crouched in the corner, as far from Tyler as she could possibly be in the cramped room, and closed her eyes. It didn’t help, his heartbeat seemed only to taunt her more. He groaned softly, and Elena felt her chest loosen with relief, he was regaining consciousness, which meant he was going to live.

He came to with a start. “What?” he spluttered, before his eyes rested on Elena. His reaction was immediate. He exploded to his feet and backed away from her until he hit the wall. “What the hell did you do to me?” he demanded, his hand flying to his neck.

Something inside Elena snapped. “You’ll survive,” she said sharply, as his heartbeat raced, stirring her hunger.

“I want out of here!”

“That makes two of us.”

His eyes narrowed. “Don’t give me that crap. You were the one who brought me here.”

“Think again,” Elena said tiredly.

“What? You’ve got an evil twin?” Tyler asked, snorting.

“You’re closer to the truth than you think,” Elena said flatly. “And I wouldn’t bother with the door, and it’s solid steel.”

“If you think I’m just going to sit here and wait for you to attack me again, you’re crazy,” Tyler pronounced. “You _bit_ me - and what is up with your face?” He scrunched up his face, in an imitation of hers, and Elena let out a laugh, despite herself.

“This from the guy who goes hairy at the full moon,” she said.

He gave her a puzzled look. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Elena rolled her eyes. “I know you’re a werewolf, Tyler,” she said. “You can drop the pretence.”

“Werewolf- wha- are you tripping or something?” Tyler asked.

Elena's retort died on her lips as she caught the expression on Tyler's face. “You really don't know what I'm talking about, do you?”

Anger flared in his eyes, his temper coming to the fore. “How about you tell me _all_ about it,” he bit out.

Elena closed her eyes as his heartbeat went into high gear again. “Tyler, I'm finding it difficult enough to hold it together without you pushing me. Just sit and wait, they'll be back soon enough – once they’ve realised you're still alive.”

“I'm not sitting anywhere until-”

A loud bang and a scream came from upstairs, and Elena jumped to her feet on instinct, her teeth lengthening. Tyler backed away both from her and the door, as if he weren't sure which one he should be more afraid of. The door slammed open, and Jeremy was hurtled into the room, the witch following.

“Look what I found for you – another founding family snack,” she said harshly. Elena hurtled herself at her, snarling, and the witch had her on her knees with a twitch of her fingers. “You're friends can't rescue-”

Elena watched in astonishment as her eyes glazed over her and she slumped to the floor. Behind her stood Tyler, a stool in his hand. Blood smeared the edge of the seat.

“Is she dead?” he asked, his eyes wide with fright.

Elena listened for a heartbeat, there wasn't one. “We have to go,” she said abruptly,as she heaved Jeremy to his feet and pulled him towards the door. “Katherine will be here soon.”

“Who the hell is Katherine?” Tyler said, as he automatically took Jeremy by the other arm.

“My evil twin,” Elena said, through gritted teeth. “Keep moving.”

Jeremy groaned, and Elena felt her heart lurch with relief. Losing her parents had been tough, she didn't know what she'd do if she lost Jeremy too. She tightened her grip around his waist, eyeing the stairs that led up to the bedrooms warily as they limped past it She heard a man moaning, which probably meant Katherine had company and...

She came to a halt when she heard another sound, another heartbeat coming from the kitchen ahead. Katherine's voice drifted though the door.

“Well, come along, don't dawdle,” she said. “You might as well collect the whole set – or has your new lifestyle put a crimp in your friendship with the witch?

_Bonnie,_ of _course_ Jeremy didn't come alone. Elena's mind raced as she tried to come up with a plan. She caught Tyler's eye, put her hand to her lips, and pointed at Jeremy and the front door behind them. She saw the look of rebellion blossoming on her face, but Elena stopped in its tracks with a flash of her fangs. His heart sped up as he nodded slowly. Gently, Elena let go of her grip on Jeremy and stepped through the door into the kitchen. Katherine had Bonnie by the neck, bleeding and unconscious.

“Don't worry,” said Katherine, “I haven't taken enough to kill her – I'm in need of her services, after all, now that you've killed _my_ witch.”

“She'll never do it,” Elena said. “She won't help you kill. You've already lost.”

Katherine gave her an amused look. “Oh, you really are very young,” she said. “She's got family. Of course she'll help me. Just like you're going to help me, if you want your brother and aunt to survive the week.”

Elena felt her mouth go dry, even as the urge to rip out her throat soared to the surface. She clamped down on the instinct. There was no way in hell she'd win in a fight against Katherine, and Bonnie's life hung in the balance. “What do you want me to do?” she asked.

“It’s really quite simple. I want you to go back downstairs and into your cell, and eat all your meals,” Katherine said

A shadow flitted across the window, catching Elena’s eye, and she flinched as it broke, the glass and frame smashing into a hundred pieces. Damon landed in the middle of the room just as the back door was ripped off its hinges, and Stefan ran in, Anna behind him. Distractedly, Elena noticed that Isobel - of _all_ people - had slipped into the room from the door behind her.

What the hell was going on?

“Ding dong, the witch is dead,” Damon said. “And we don't need an invite anymore.”

“Speaking of witches,” Stefan added. “We'd like ours back now.”

“And why would I do that?” Katherine asked archly.

“Because it's five to one, and you want to leave this house alive,” said Stefan.

“Really?” Damon asked. “We're letting her live?”

“She's got Bonnie, Damon,” Elena said, through gritted teeth.

“Yeah, so she does,” Damon said coolly

“_Damon_” Elena said.

Katherine laughed “Yes, Damon, you can't let Elena's little witchy friend die, she may never forgive you, and then you'll just end up pining like an abandoned puppy for _another _hundred years.”

“Shut up, just shut up,” Elena said, tiredly.

“Now, that was just _rude_,” Katherine said. “I may have to make you pay for that.”

Elena felt Damon tense beside her and knew things could go very wrong, very quickly, but she couldn’t see a way out of their predicament.

And that was when she picked up the sound of a police car in the distance. She risked a glance at Damon.

“I knew I couldn’t trust him to keep an eye on her,” Damon muttered.

“Trust who?” she asked, eyeing the room to see who wasn’t there. “Alaric?”

“Gilbert,” Damon said tersely.

“Uncle _John_?” Elena asked, disbelievingly. What had been _happening_ while she was gone?

“This is getting boring,” Katherine said, as the siren got louder. She leaned into Bonnie’s ear. “_I’ll see you soon_,” she whispered, before throwing her at Damon.

With a curse, Damon caught her, and Katherine vaulted through the window. A split second later, Stefan jumped out after her, and they both disappeared into the trees just as the squad car pulled up to the house.

“Where’s Tyler and Jeremy?” Elena asked

“Out of the line of sight,” Damon said, as he pulled Bonnie into his arms. “Which is more than we can say about the dead witch in the basement.”

“I’ll head the Sheriff off,” Isobel said.

Damon’s head swung around “Go near her and I’ll rip your head off.”

“Can we leave the posturing until later?” Anna asked impatiently. “We need to _leave_.”

_Police!_” Liz’s voice rang clearly through the house, and Elena eyed Damon. His expression was cold as he turned to Anna.

“Make sure _she_-” He nodded at Isobel. “-doesn’t take any detours on the way back to the house.

Anna smiled grimly. “Count on it.”

He turned to look at Elena for the first time since he’d crashed through the window. Elena felt something inside her flinch at she saw the detachment in his eyes. “Let’s go,” he said.

And Elena could only mutely follow.


	24. Chapter 24

The ride home was a silent one. Elena could see the white of Damon's knuckles as he gripped the car wheel, the muscle in his jaw twitching. She sensed Stefan behind her, shifting in his seat to make Bonnie more comfortable. She hadn't awoken yet but from the sound of her fluttering heart, and the soft moan that escaped her lips, she was pretty close to regaining consciousness.

And, oh God, she was so, so hungry.

“We're nearly there,” Damon said, as if hearing her thoughts, and Elena nodded, unsure of what else to do. Those had been the first words he'd said to her since they'd left the house and Elena wasn't sure how to take the sudden silent treatment, but she had the uneasy feeling that it wouldn't last long and, when the dam broke, there mightn't be much of anything left.

She opened her mouth to say something about it, but then snapped it shut when she realised she didn't want to say it in front of Stefan. It felt too much like a betrayal, although to which brother she wasn't sure.

Jeremy's car was already pulled up in front of the Salvatore house when they arrived, and four sets of heartbeats told her they had a full house. She grasped at Damon's arm as they came to a halt. 

“I can't go in there,” she said lowly.

He gave her a long, calculating look, and Elena wondered once again what was going through his mind. 

“Wait here,” he said eventually as he extricated himself from her grasp, “We still have a supply in the freezer.” And that was all he said. No snarky reply, no reassuring squeeze. Distance. He was putting distance between them. And that hurt more than she thought possible.

“What were you expecting?” Stefan asked quietly, from the back seat, and Elena caught his eyes in the rear view mirror.

“Don’t,” she said. “I’m really not in the mood.”

He nodded and opened the rear door, pulling Bonnie securely into his arms. She was still unconscious, but her heartbeat was regular and no longer thready. It sharpened her hunger and, with a shiver, she pulled her eyes away.

“You’re not coming with me, are you?” he asked abruptly.

“Is there any point?” she asked. “I’m not what you want anymore, Stefan. I’m not the person you fell in love with.”

“Yes, you are,” he said, his voice soft. “You will always be the person you were, Elena, all Vampire's are. That is what makes it so difficult.” And then he was gone andshe could hear Bonnie's heartbeat merge with the others inside. Biting her lip, she gazed out the window, away from the house. She could already see a pale line of light over the treeline. Dawn was coming and soon she'd have to scurry inside and hide from the sun. Tears welled up in her eyes, and she roughly wiped them away. Self pity wouldn't get her anywhere. The car door opened and Damon sat in, handing her a filled glass of blood. He eyed her intently as she drank it down. She almost instaneously felt the tension ease from her body.

“Yeah,” Damon said, “Almost like that first cigarette of the day, isn't it?”

Elena slumped back in her seat. “I never smoked.”

“Yeah, well you will be smoking pretty soon if you don't put this on – and I mean that in the literal sense.”

She turned to look and saw the daylight ring in his hand. A grin spread across her face as she snatched it and put it on. It wasn't quite as garish as Damon and Stefan's, but it was still more of statement piece that she was used to wearing. It didn't matter, though, all that mattered was she'd see a sunrise again.

“Yes, well...when you're ready. There's more blood in the kitchen,” Damon said quietly, opening the door.

“Damon.” She caught his arm. “What's wrong?”

He looked at her with that piercing gaze of his that seemed to look right through her, and gave her a meaningless smile “Nothing's wrong, Elena, everything is just peachy.” 

And then he was gone too.

Elena waited for the world to make sense again as the sun rose over the the trees, cloaking Mystic falls in an illusion of safety. She was reminded once again of the hard truth she'd learned when her parents died. There was no true protection against loss and change. No never ending perfect life. There were only moments you treasured to get you through the bad parts, people you loved who eased the pain. Her resolve hardened as she got out of the car. So Damon had decided to let her go, had he? Well, that was her decision, not _his_.

~~~*~*~*~~~

The livingroom felt almost crowded when Damon entered and he resisted the urge to turn around and walk back out again. 

“Where is she?” Gilbert demanded.

“She's still in the car, resisting the urge to snack on you,” Damon said, too tired to lie. “And you need to be somewhere else. Take Bonnie and Jer with you – where's Liz?”

“I'm not going anywhere,” Gilbert said shortly, “And Liz's whereabouts is none of your business.”

“Fine,” Damon snapped, “Stay here, in the one house in Mystic Falls that Katherine doesn't need a invite into. What could possibly happen?” 

Jeremy rolled his eyes. “Sheriff Forbes is still at the house Katherine was holed up in,” he said, ignoring Gilbert's glare. “I overheard them on the phone.”

Damon felt a pang of worry. “Please tell me she isn't there by herself?” he asked. Jeremy shrugged, and Gilbert glared at him sullenly. “Never mind, I'll find out for myself.” He reached for his phone as he headed for the kitchen. The urge to rip someone's throat out was almost becoming too much to ignore. He heard Elena go up the backstairs as he reached the fridge, and contemplated joining her. 

But he couldn't do that because alone time with Elena meant resisting the impulse to touch her and   
kiss her, and he couldn't do that, because she needed to leave with Stefan. She needed to be kept safe and happy, and Stefan could do that. He'd just get her killed, it was only a matter of time. He transferred the blood into a mug and popped it into the microwave before phoning Liz. 

“Please tell me it isn't another body.” She sounded harried.

“Why? How many have you got?” 

“Only one in the house, but the dogs have turned up three unmarked graves just beyond the treeline. They're still digging.”

Damn blinked, Katherine wasn't usually this sloppy. “What is the official line?”

“A serial killer, what else could we say? Animals eat their prey, they don't bury them.”

She had a point. “How many people are with you, Liz?” The words were out of his mouth before he could stop himself.

“Are you worried about me, Damon?” Her voice sounded amused.

“Just be careful,” he said brusquely, sidestepping the question.

“You _are_!” she teased. “I thought I'd never see the day Damon Salvatore worried about anyone other than his brother. Relax, worrywart, I intend to be home well before nightfall!”

Liz didn't know about daylight rings. “Don't forget about compulsion,” he warned her. “ Don't think you're safe just because the sun is up.”

There was a pause on the phone. “Why do I get the feeling you're not telling me something?”

He resisted the desire to roar at her. “Liz, just be careful, okay?” He hung up before she could ask any more questions. The microwave beeped and Damon opened it, gulping down the blood in two swallows. It didn't help. He knew what he wanted and what he wanted was upstairs. 

He blurred up the steps and was stalking her scent before he had time to think twice about it. Poor impulse control, he told himself, mockingly, its made you the man you are. He pushed open his bedroom door just as he heard his shower being turned off. 

She stepped out of his shower as he entered, a towel wrapped around her; her skin still glowing from the hot water and her hair hanging sleek and wet down her back. Damon knew he'd already lost the battle. It didn't stop him giving it the old college try, however.

“Aren't you in the wrong room?” he asked, as he sauntered towards her. 

Her eyes looked away. “I'm not so sure about that.”

A thrill ran through him at the words but he ignored it. “Can't decide whose bed you want?”

“Do I have to decide right now?” she asked, almost plaintively. 

He came to halt in front of her. “Looking for a threesome?”

She gave his shoulder a half-hearted slap. “You're not going to make this easy, are you?”

“Nope,” he said. “But I could make it simple.” He tugged at the towel and it fell to the floor. Damon's took her in, not hiding his interest, his eyes drifting over her small but firm breasts, the curve of her hips as they tapered into her waist. He felt himself harden. “Tempting,” he drawled. “Are you sure you want to go there, Elena? Because you know I'm going to come back for seconds.” 

She blushed but didn't back down. The water was still evaporating from her skin as she canted forward, pressing her lips to his and he gave up all hint of reluctance as he kissed her back, steering her towards the bed as he divested himself of his clothes. 

He pushed her back onto the bed. “Be honest, Elena, say what you want,” he said. “So we both know where we stand.” He didn't know why he was being so blunt. He always thought their first time would be filled with pretty words and soft touches. 

The colour in her cheeks heightened but the scent of her arousal was obvious. “Fuck me,” she said. It seemed Elena was in the mood for bluntness too.

He slid a hand up her thigh, revelling in the silkiness of her skin, and Elena parted her legs. He took the invitation, dipping his head and pressing his tongue into her. She sighed, her back arching gently, and he captured her hands as they fluttered towards him, feeling them twist as he pressed them back into the bed.

“Damon,” she sighed. “Please...please...”

Her scent enveloped him, sweetening her taste, and his fangs extended, grazing the tender flesh and drawing blood. She bucked, letting out a soundless cry. Damon knew what she wanted, teeth and tongue. He moaned into her as her blood and juices mingled in his mouth. 

He felt her hands struggle to break free and he tightened his grip as he lifted his face to look up at her. Eyes black, teeth extended, her breasts full and aroused, she was a sight to behold. He slithered up her body, pulling her hands over her head as his mouth settled on one luscious breast and bit down.

She jerked beneath him “Oh god!” she gasped as he suckled, her blood flowing down his throat, rich and intoxicating. The next step came as naturally as air. He lifted his head, slotted his hips into hers and watched her lips part, revealing her fangs, as he sank into her. She craned towards him, all instinct and lust, her legs curling around him.

“No going back now, Elena,” he ground out, as he pulled out and slammed back into her. She clenched around him greedily, her skin flushing. Neither of them were going to last long. 

With a sharp piston movement, he pumped into her. In and out, in and out. Words babbled out of her mouth. 

“Harder, oh yes, fuck, harder, Damon-”

Her lips became silent as her body twisted beneath him. She was beautiful when she came. He released her hands and she struck. Her fangs slicing into the curve of his neck and snapping his self control. 

“Elena!” He spilled into her with a violent shudder, the pleasure flowing over him hotly as she fed from him. Is was so near perfect it was bloody terrifying.

It was going to be impossible to let her go.

**TBC**


End file.
